She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. "Your gratitude will vanish with your danger.
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