Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you. The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. ‘And this is where you have been all the time?’ ‘I would have been back in a day, I promise you. Wood required little pressing.
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