‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. “I know. The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. ’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. Forgive me.
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