"Because—because I'm always distrustful of a priest," rejoined Jonathan. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. ” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. Capes flashed to an understanding of her intention, sprang to his feet, and opened the door for her retreat. . ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. Then she stood up and looked around the room. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. Me, you may have. “Please forgive me.
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