The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. I do not blame you for the act. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. “We should get out of here. behind the Laundromat. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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