He tried again. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. She had begun alone. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin.
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