’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. ” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. From thoughts of fame to thoughts of mere bread and butter! It seemed to Spurlock that he had tumbled off the edge of Somewhere into the abyss of Nowhere. His voice had broken. As for that, what man ever had? "That's a remarkable young woman," he offered, merely to note what effect it would have. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled.
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