She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. “I believe it is. But then the features changed. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. A true nun. ’ Gerald tutted. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. Then we can look out together for such employment—as would be more suitable for you. Its smooth surface soothed her nerves.
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