“An inviolable sanctuary,” said Miss Rutherford. “But we shall all have colds in the head before we get there if we don’t do something to dry ourselves.” “Barnabas,” said Lady Isabel, “do go and change your clothes. He fell into the sea the other day, and he is so liable to take cold.” “We saw him,” said Priscilla. “Go and change your clothes, Mr. Pennefather. By the time you’ve done that Jimmy Kinsella will have arrived and you can be off at once with Miss Rutherford. The sooner we’re all out of this the better. Though Lord Torrington doesn’t look like a man who would come out in a thunder storm even to catch his daughter.” “Your black suit is in the hold-all in my tent,” said Lady Isabel. The Reverend Barnabas Pennefather disappeared into the tent which was still standing. Priscilla looked around her cheerfully. “It’s clearing up,” she said. “There’s quite a lot of blue sky to be seen over Rosnacree. We’ll all dry soon.” She gathered the bottom of her skirt tight into her hands and wrung the water out of it. “Where are you going to take him to?” she said to Miss Rutherford. “Am I to take him?” said Miss Rutherford. “I didn’t know that was part of the plan. I thought we were all going together to Inishbawn, the sanctuary.” “Didn’t I tell you,” said Priscilla. “We decided that you were to have charge of Barnabas for a few days until the trouble blows over a bit. You’re to pretend that he’s your husband. You don’t mind, do you?” “I’d much rather have Frank,” said Miss Rutherford. “What on earth would be the use of that?” said Priscilla. “But, of course, I’ll marry Barnabas with pleasure,” said Miss Rutherford, “if it’s really necessary and Lady Isabel doesn’t object.” “I won’t be separated from Barnabas,” said Lady Isabel, “and I’m sure he’ll never agree to leave me.” “All the same you’ll have to,” said Priscilla, “both of you. We can’t pretend you’re not married if you’re going about together on Inishbawn.” “But I don’t want to pretend I’m not married. I’m proud of what we’ve done.” “You’ll sacrifice the respect and affection of Aunt Juliet,” said Priscilla, “the moment it comes out that you’re married. As long as she thinks you’re out on your own defying the absurd conventions by which women are made into what she calls ‘bedizened dolls for the amusement of the brutalised male sex,’ she’ll be all on your side. But once she thinks you’ve given up your economic independence she’ll simply turn round and help Lady Torrington to hunt you down.” Mr. Pennefather emerged from the tent. He wore a black suit of clothes of strictly clerical cut and a collar which buttoned at the back of his neck. Except that he was barefooted and had not brushed his hair he would have been fit to attend a Church Conference. His self-respect was restored by his attire. He walked over to Frank, who was dripping on a stone, and handed him a visiting card. Frank read it. “Reverend Barnabas Pennefather--St. Agatha’s Clergy House--Grosvenor Street, W.”