While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. I stubbornly insisted that we wait, and you woke up. “I’m being honest with you. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. My name is Annabel, not Anna. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. ’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun.
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