A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe. These were the Master's body-guard. EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. And now, let's see who'll refuse the pledge. He knew she had been weeping. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun.
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