As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. So the young fool had not told her! McClintock had suspected as much. It was convenient for Father Saint-Simon, who could enter this way and prepare in the little room before going up the narrow stair to the chapel above where the nuns waited. But they did not know how good she was, how perfect she was. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors.
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