She lay very still and closed her eyes, hear tears gliding off of her ears, causing them to itch. ’ ‘It’s not that,’ the nun said urgently, ‘but I’ve remembered something important. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man.
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