The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Nobody can trust you. Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. I’m not half smart enough for the West End.
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