But she was relentless. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. Jesus! They just wouldn’t let up about you after you played the violin for them. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. ’ ‘It’s not that,’ the nun said urgently, ‘but I’ve remembered something important. ‘I was not born to this.
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