. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. “What can you do?” she asked. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so.
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