She slipped out the window, jumping to the ground from the second story with very little sound. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. He walked unsteadily towards the door. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. ’ No Latin? And no guns or daggers, naturally.
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