277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Danger, the most terrible she had ever faced, was substantially in this room. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point. ‘Say it.
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