She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. Surely it was a dream. The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. The end of the world seemed at hand. One could enter and leave by proa, but nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. " Mrs. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked.
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