She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. ” “I had to,” she repeated. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense.
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