The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. You understand me, Charcoal. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. Her thick body was heavy and massive. Spurling had retired for the night. “Indeed!” Anna answered indifferently. ” He never helped her by a sound. \"Good morning, Lucy\". Secretly she was gratified to be assigned to the rôle of an old traveller. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard.
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