She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. On the contrary, his glass was never idle, and finding it not filled quite so frequently as he desired, he applied himself, notwithstanding the expressive looks and muttered remonstrances of Mr. Sebastian dared not approach her. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs.
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