"Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected.
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