Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. Alone; not even the dog to warn her, and Hoddy deep in the island somewhere. You are not going anywhere but to the Tredgold College. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. In the pause she realized the attention of the others converged upon her, and that the tears were brimming over her eyes. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Mary Lucia was branded “the earliest riser and the best at keeping up with her chores” by the formidable Sisters at the orphanage. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits.
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