’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. The stipendiary would have done it all very differently. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. " "You hear that," whispered Jack.
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