Then I saw Mrs. “Mr. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. Then instinct took over. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. In any event, I brought her to the convent and we had her locked up separately, and told ’em both they’d be taken into custody as soon as Valade was fit to go. And you don’t know what led to our separation.
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