As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Things that you and the nuns would not think about for—’ She stopped, biting back the words “for a young girl”. No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of the passage, and, the next moment, a couple of mastiffs of the largest size rushed furiously towards him. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains.
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