She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. “Someone must have found it and taken good care of it. " "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed. Well, well; all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama unroll. After all there are other things. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption.
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