The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. She went next day to the schools, and her world seemed all made of happiness just worked up roughly into shapes and occasions and duties. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat.
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