Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. ’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. Her impressions of this cardinal ceremony were rich and confused, complicated by a quite transitory passion that awakened no reciprocal fire for a fat curly headed cousin in black velveteen and a lace collar, who assisted as a page. ‘Assuredly it is locked up.
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