’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. The major himself told me that this secret passage started upstairs. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. It was convenient for Father Saint-Simon, who could enter this way and prepare in the little room before going up the narrow stair to the chapel above where the nuns waited. I don’t defend it. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. I am not angry with you, but with this—this—’ ‘Idiot? Imbecile?’ offered Gerald in a helpful tone.
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