. . "He said, by way of comfort, I suppose, after the fright he gave me at first, that the child would find a friend within twenty-four hours, who would stand by him through life. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. "What did you do?" he asked, in a broken voice. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. I ought never to have thought of it. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. It began as a joke.
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