‘That rascally knave sent you to become a French nun?’ Looking positively terrified, the girl nodded dumbly. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. ‘Oh, the Frenchie. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. Many’s the bullets I’ve dug out of fellows in my time.
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