Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. ‘And now, monsieur le major—’ ‘I will see you to the door,’ Gerald said, looking with interest at the building that his observant groom had told him housed a small collection of nuns. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street.
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