” Lucy put the back of her hand to Michelle’s forehead. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it.
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