IN THE PRISON OF ST. BASIL
175
long sigh. "She don't remember me, an' I don't know whether to be glad or sorry—some peach!"
Malcolm turned on him savagely, but it was evident the man had meant no harm.
"She is a friend of mine," he said sharply.
"Sure she is," said the placid Cherry, unpacking the basket, "and the right kind of friend. If this isn't caviare! Say, shut your eyes, and you'd think you were at Rectoris."
