Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. But that Chink, Ah Cum! O'Higgins chuckled as he passed into the hall and rested his hand on the newel-post of the staircase.
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