Unfortunately, however, it was to become more complicated still; for the duchess, turning to the English tongue again, laid a hand on my arm and said in her most coaxing tones: "And you, my dear Mr.Aycon, are going to stay a few days in Avranches." "Not an hour!" would have expressed the resolve of my intellect.

But we are not all intellect; and what I actually said was: "What for ?" "In case," said the duchess, "I want you, Mr.Aycon." "I will stay," said I, nodding, "just a few days at Avranches." We were within half a mile of that town.

The convent gleamed white in the moonlight about three hundred yards to the left.

The duchess took her little bag, jumped lightly down, kissed her hand to me, and walked off.
Jean had made no comment at all--the duchess' household was hard to surprise.

I could make none.