Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night. ’ Melusine’s arm crept up around his neck. Miss Stanley walked round the garden thinking, and presently house and garden reverberated to Ann Veronica’s slamming of the front door. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun.
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