…if she weighed each syllable in her mind very carefully before she spoke, ” I have heard of you from the Rev. Mr. Towell.” At the mention of the name of the chaplain at Dartmoor, Lil you know the fellow who laid it on so thick when I was doing time there, three years ago last May at the mention of his name, Lil, I jumped as if I had been shot.”Then you’re a lady missionary, are you?” I said, with a scowl. ”If that’s your game, all I can say is that you’ve come to the wrong shop. I don’t cotton to prigs of that kidney.”” I spoke so savage, Lil, that the lady shook all over, and I saw her eyes flash round the room as if seeking the quickest avenue of escape. Then she suddenly grew calm, and, lifting her veil, stared me straight in…