Spurling, hastening to the rescue. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. She had a few acquaintances, English gentlemen, but she lived with her sister—was a lady. I tried painting and couldn’t get on.
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