“Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. ” She said under her breath. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. "You can shave him, you know. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness.
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