“It was a phase,” she said. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt. Wagstaff. Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them everywhere. They then swiftly mounted the stairs, and stopped before the audience-chamber. She missed them already. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again.
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