They bounced without merriment over bumpy Roman roads, and by the time they arrived she was extremely nauseous. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. "There is nobody else. Never was there another girl like this one. To-night we leave for Marseilles. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind.
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