The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. ” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate. Promise me that you’ll contact the police if she ever calls you on the phone, or worse, shows up at your school. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun.
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