CHAPTER II. “These are her rooms,” she said. Bon. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. In the upper hall he paused to listen. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. When he returned to Hong-Kong, there was a reply to his cable: "Hang on. ” She looked at him for a moment with fire in her eyes. Nothing ensued. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. He was her only brother, and she his favourite sister. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa.
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