Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. Then instinct took over. All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. . ’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks.
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