"Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. ’ ‘But the general gave his permission. He had a great contempt for the sections the “theorizers” produced. Kneebone begged him to take the prisoner into the churchyard. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent.
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