He was helpful, but gravely dubious. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling.
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