“He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. My, um, my curfew. On the death of his royal patron, he resolved to return to his own country; and, after various delays, which had postponed it to the present time, he had succeeded in accomplishing his object. ’ ‘Tchah! Better a doubtful welcome here than a confounded French convent. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace.
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