’ The Mother Abbess—and indeed all the nuns, some of higher birth more fearful than others—were aghast at the horrors that had befallen the family Valade. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. " She had no reason to doubt him. The twists in his brain had suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he knew now exactly what he had done. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in.
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