‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. “All right?” asked the man with the light eyelashes, suddenly appearing in the doorway. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. My mother shall never degrade herself by a connection with you.
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