She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. This also struck her as odd. "Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea stuff, that yarn of yours. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. “Of course you don’t. ’ ‘It’s not that,’ the nun said urgently, ‘but I’ve remembered something important.
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