CHAPTER I. It opened and a nun’s head popped out. ” “I like the mystical way better,” said Ann Veronica, and thought. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me.
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