"Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts. You’ve got me. She crushed the letter in her hand. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted.
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