“You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. The whole of that relationship persisted in remaining obscure. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain.
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