She’s a good lass.”“I am, am I?“ Constance said, reappearing in the doorway. ”And you’re a dreadful old woman, Joan.““Now then, Sister. Don’t forget, we nuns always maintain a polite distance in front of men,” Joan said disdainfully, and then laughed, slapping her thigh with delight at her witticism.Joan gave Hugh a tolerant smile. It was easy to like Joan. She was known to all the nuns; for many her face was the first they would see on entering the cloister. Certainly she was fearsome, almost dragon-like to the younger entrants, but once the girls got to know her, they saw the warmth of her heart. Joan was a permanent fixture of the place, and she felt that she had the right to make jokes at the expense of any of the other sisters or of the institution itself, just as she saw fit.Woe betide the fool who tried to join her in belittling the convent, however. That was tantamount to a felony in Joan’s view. She would tolerate making fun of the other sisters, but the place itself was sacrosanct.
