"Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. He was introduced to Brendon, and a chair was brought by an attentive waiter. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful.
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