There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. “Look here! Aren’t you going a little too far? This—this is degradation—making a fuss with sleeves. Where even to be a Catholic, they say, is to be looked upon with scorn and disgust. And a time will come, Veronica, mark my words, a time will come when you will bless me for my firmness to-night.
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