. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. Kind of knows it, too. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne.
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