Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. Wood trembled. ‘I do not mind to pray, no. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. "Where did I hear that before?" "Perhaps that first day, in the water-clock tower. Indeed I must. And Miss Miniver began to sway her. "I've lost my wager. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms.
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