"Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. Kneebone's," remarked Austin, rising to fasten the door. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. But they were too late. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun.
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