” She stopped. Spurlock stepped into the room. But shortly this movement ceased. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. . ” “Why?” asked Hetty. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question.
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