’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. Just one thing more. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended. It could not go on much longer, her luck. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said.
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