But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. His fingers closed upon her hand. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. Spiders came out of their hiding places to commune in windows, industriously spinning their own designs over the stained glass. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted.
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