Shari was snoring, the pill having worked its magic. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. "Ah! but," said I, "there's a great deal in being hanged. She kissed him on the bridge of his nose. ’ He quirked an eyebrow. “Then turn round and go back there,” she directed. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened.
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