For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. ‘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. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. By Jasus! he's about to spake to us. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense.
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