I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. Yet an indiscriminating, wrong-headed world gave such fellows all sorts of distinctions. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. You don’t want to look like Bozo. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs.
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