Do you remember
Italy, Merat? Good God! Good God!" And he fell into a chair and did
not speak again for some time. "It would have been better if Ulick
Dean had persuaded her to go away with him. It was I who told him to
go to see her and kept him in my house because I knew that this
damned priest would get her in the end."
"But, Sir Owen, for mademoiselle to be a nun is out of the
question... if you knew what convents were."
"Oh, Merat, don't talk to me, don't talk to me; they have got her!"
Then a sudden idea seized him.
"Come into the dining-room," he said. "You know Mr. Harding? He is
there." He passed out of the room, leaving the door open for Merat
to follow through. "Harding, read this letter." He stood watching
Harding while he read; but before Harding was half-way down the page
he said: "You see, she is going into a convent. They have got her,
they have got her! But they shan't get her as long as I have a
shoulder with which to force in a door. The doors of those mansions
where she has gone to live are not very strong, are they, Merat? She
shall see me; she shall not go to that convent. That blasted priest
shall not get her. Those ghouls of nuns!" And he was about to break
from the room when Merat threw herself in front of him.
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