‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. " "Add that to what she is now suffering? It's too late. " "Ah, yes. He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. Miss Ellicot pursed her lips and sat a little more upright.
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