She flew up from her stool and faced the door. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. “But if you had?” she said. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 01-07-2024 03:05:07
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