Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. There will be no avoiding it. On this elevation a table was now placed, around which sat the turnkeys and their guests, regaling themselves on the fragrant beverage provided by the prisoner. ’ ‘Oh, you are, are you?’ said the nun, evidently not mollified, but she was forestalled. Her body went into spasm.
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