The face which emerged was not reassuring. It was blunt and grey, the nose springing thick and flat from high on the frontal bone of the forehead, whilst his eyes were narrow slits of dark in a tight bandage of tissue. […].
Consequently France, which has refused the less, cannot well receive the greater. If it has been found so difficult to Catholicise France, how impossible to Jesuitise it.
There was a tense, angry silence as they faced each other sparringly in Abbey's dimly lit lounge, then Dalene hissed accusingly, 'You just don't care, do you?'
Dear Aunt Louie:[…]Criticism on my part would be rather like aunticide would it not?
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