She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. " CHAPTER V. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. Stanley, and went into his study. S. God knows how you did it.
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