It opened and a nun’s head popped out. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. ’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. The simile started a laugh in his throat.
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