The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. "Miss Thornhill's a charming girl. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth. He made it more and more evident to her that her proper course was not to earn a salary but to accumulate equipment. And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear.
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