She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. That is quite as far as I mean to tempt Providence to-night.
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