She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat.
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