The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. They litter up the room. “I have not the least idea who he is.
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