That wasn’t even the worst thing. " "I'll tell you what I'll do," rejoined the other. I’ll get in trouble. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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