’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. “Tut, tut!” he said. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. “Good-bye, Miss Pellissier, and success to you,” he said. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. It was so hopeless to put it to them.
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