But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. "So get up, and leave off whimpering. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition.
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