155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. The only difficulties that presented themselves clearly to her were the difficulties of getting away from Morningside Park, and not the difficulties at the other end of the journey. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. ’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. .
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