CHAPTER XVIII. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. I am totally like this on my own. “It is not, of course, a pleasant subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. The robbers proceeded singly, and kept on the grass skirting the road, so that no noise was made by their horses' feet. But if we had gone under—!” They regarded one another silently, and Ann Veronica had one of her penetrating flashes.
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