"Yes. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. \"Stop smiling, you're scaring me. " CHAPTER XXV. " "Thought so. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure.
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