. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. ” The girl nodded. ” “And you knew, of course, that we were old friends?” “Indeed!” “Lady Ferringhall, I love your sister. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street.
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