The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. "But you said you weren't particular. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing.
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