While this was passing, Jonathan opened one of the upper windows, and fired several shots upon the assailants. It gave him plenty of time to obsess over his random crushes, which worried her. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. The Storm VII.
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