No wonder we are anxious that nothing should happen to make him change his mind. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. ” He was suddenly resentful. See paragraph 1.
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