Plote was sleeping or deaf. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. It was still so dark, that nothing could be distinguished except the heavy masses of timber by which the premises were surrounded; but as they advanced, lights were visible in some of the windows. ” Brendon rose and came towards her with outstretched hand. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up.
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