“I don’t want to get back,” said Virginia, dabbing her eyes. “I’m not revengeful. To-morrow I shall go into retreat. I know a place in the Midlands. You live very simply and do your own cell, and you don’t see any papers or anything. And there aren’t any men for miles, except one priest.”
“Poor devil,” said Roger thoughtfully. “Does he muck out his own cell too?”
“Oh, of course you can laugh,” said Virginia hotly. “But I mean what I say. I’m utterly disillusioned, and I’m going to clear out and leave the lot of you to it. What’s your rotten idea?”
Roger took out a case and selected a cigarette.
“I’m afraid it’s too worldly,” he said. “Besides, as you don’t see the papers——”
“Now, where’s that note you sent me?” said Virginia, ransacking her bag. “The priest’ll want that to send to Derry.”
Captain Chase sat very still.
Then—
“Oh, the vixen!” he said. “Never mind. In return for that note I’ll hand you my rotten idea.”
With an envelope, pinched between her forefinger and thumb, Virginia tapped her small nose and stared at the chauffeur’s shoulders and the black and silver habit of Night beyond.