The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. "I will swear it upon the cross!" "His name, then?" demanded the knight. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde.
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