No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet.
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