Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. Here, might be seen a poor fellow whose teeth were knocked down his throat, spluttering out the most tremendous menaces, and gesticulating like a madman: there, another, whose nose was partially slit, vented imprecations and lamentations in the same breath. The night was now profoundly dark. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving.
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