The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. “I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned out. So long. “Come on in, Michelle. Why, honestly enouch. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and baffling as the sea in doldrums. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house.
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