‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. "She wouldn't let me go. Kneebone, he took his departure. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat.
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