"I should like to. But what a good idea to have book-cases in the passages, they furnish the walls so well. And what are those rooms?"
"Those belong to Escott. Here is where I sleep."
"What a strange room!" discountenanced by the great Christ. She turned her head.
"That crucifix is a present from Frank. He bought it in Paris. It is superb expression of the faith of the Middle Ages."
"Old ages, I should think; it is all worm-eaten. And that Virgin? I did not know you were so religious."
"I do not believe in Christianity, but I think Christ is picturesque."
"Christ is very beautiful. When I prayed to Him an hour passed like a little minute. It always seemed to me more natural to pray to Him than to the Virgin Mary. But is that your bed?"
Upon a trellis supported by lion's claws a feather bed was laid. The sheets and pillows were covered with embroidered cloth, the gift of some unhappy lady, and about the twisted columns heavy draperies hung in apparent disorder. Lily sat down on the pouff ottoman. Mike took two Venetian glasses, poured out some champagne, and sat at her feet. She sipped the wine and nibbled a biscuit.
"Tell me about the convent," he said. "That is now a thing over and done."
"Fortunately I was not professed; had I taken vows I could not have broken them."