His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. I made the pies. " "Lead the way to it then, Saint Giles," said Jack, in a tone of mock authority. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest.
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