She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. Mr. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. She asked no further questions for the moment. Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her.
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