” “Don’t imperil my reputation before I am established,” she answered, smiling. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. ” She laughed. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image.
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