“Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. “When are you going away?” He asked. Ennison had disappeared. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.
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