He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. I could never have talked to you like this, forgetting everything that parts us, forgetting even your age, if I did not love you utterly. Around him were all the evidences of plenty. I'm not particular what or where. ‘To what do you go, mademoiselle? The life of a nun in a convent, in a country where nuns are unwelcome. I don’t quite know why.
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