The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. That is very bad, certainly, and for this he was extremely sorry. He rested on one elbow. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. ” He demanded as she opened her eyes and stopped moaning.
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