Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. That is so awful. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. Michelle ate fast, and Lucy followed her lead, shoveling mashed potatoes and salmon down her gullet in a passionless frenzy.
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