'And nothing has happened! Did you see your Men? I didn't see my Faces. Does it mean we've escaped? Did—did you take any after I went to sleep? I'll swear I didn't,' she stammered.
'No, there wasn't any need. We've slept through it.'
'No need! Thank God! There was no need! Oh, look!'
The train was running under red cliffs along a sea-wall washed by waves that were colourless in the early light. Southward the sun rose mistily upon the Channel.
She leaned out of the window and breathed to the bottom of her lungs, while the wind wrenched down her dishevelled hair and blew it below her waist.
'Well!' she said with splendid eyes. 'Aren't you still waiting for something to happen?'
'No. Not till next time. We've been let off,' Conroy answered, breathing as deeply as she.
'Then we ought to say our prayers.'
'What nonsense! Some one will see us.'
'We needn't kneel. Stand up and say "Our Father." We must!'
It was the first time since childhood that Conroy had prayed. They laughed hysterically when a curve threw them against an arm-rest.
'Now for breakfast!' she cried. 'My maid—Nurse Blaber—has the basket and things. It'll be ready in twenty minutes. Oh! Look at my hair!' and she went out laughing.
Conroy's first discovery, made without fumbling
