But this is a great lark, Ann Veronica! This turns life into a glorious adventure!” “Ah!” she cried in triumph. “Always planning for death. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. Sister’s got married to that bounder Ferringhall. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered.
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