" "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. The annihilation of the Terror which fascinated her and troubled her dreams o' nights. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. Lucy's grin faded. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. “Women are mocked,” she said. ‘Oh, peste.
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