” Courtlaw laughed hardly. Kneebone begged him to take the prisoner into the churchyard. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. "Bring the light, Nab. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated. Then he sensed the trap. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse.
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