144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. She blew on the hand cannon and grabbed her bag of gunpowder. This adventure of yours has gone on altogether too long; it has become a serious distress to both your aunt and myself. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. You can trust me, Anna.
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