Page:Burton Stevenson--The marathon mystery.djvu/242

216 had a temperament which seemed to scent instinctively every change of feeling—and she threw her arms above her head with that gesture of weariness which I had seen before.

“Adié, chè,” she said abruptly.

“Good-night, Cecily,” I answered, rising, smiling in spite of myself at my curt dismissal, at her change of tone.

“Bon-Dié ké beni ou!”

“And you, Cecily.”

As I turned to the door, I heard the rustle of her gown as she arose from the couch. My hand on the knob, I glanced around, expecting to find her at my elbow. Instead, she was kneeling, with bowed head, before her Virgin.