Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. ‘Oh, are there? You are not quite alone in these adventures of yours, I take it. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis.
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