’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. She had agonized over it for weeks. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. I’ve made an ally of her champion. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. ’ ‘Oh, yes I do,’ Martha said, getting up off the bed.
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