It opened and a nun’s head popped out. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. In a sense I don’t care. ” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked.
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