“Yes, madame. I was a modiste, and my father was a restaurant keeper.”
“You speak English?”
“Quite well, madame. I have lived there ten years.”
“We have a branch of the sisterhood in England—near Richmond. Perhaps you know it?”
“Yes, madame. I remember my father pointing the convent out to me.”
“Ah, you know it!” exclaimed the elder woman. “I was there last year.”
Then she reverted to Jean’s husband, asking where they were married, and many details concerning their life since that event.
To all the questions Jean replied frankly and openly. All she concealed was the fact that Ralph and Adolphe had committed a burglary on the night when she had taken her departure.
“I could not stand it any longer, madame,” she assured the Mother Superior, with hot tears in her big eyes. “He tried to strike me, but his friend prevented him.”
“His friend sympathised with you—eh?” remarked the woman, who had had much experience of the wrongs of other women.