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. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. She did not know herself. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth.
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