‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. “Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. \"Are you hungry at all?\" He asked her. Looked like them statues of the Holy Mother I see about the place.
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