Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected. The Mohocks XII. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town.
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