Sister Pelagia And The White Bulldog - Plot & Excerpts
It came in a concerted, copious, merry downpour, instantly making clear that it intended to soak every last thread, not only of the nun’s habit and headscarf, but also of her undershirt, and even of the knitting in the bag at her waist. Pelagia took fright. She glanced around to make sure that no one was coming, hoisted up her habit, and set off sprinting along the road with a quite remarkable alacrity, in which she was assisted by the English gymnastics that, as we have already said, the sister taught at the diocesan school.Having attained the sanctuary of the avenue, Pelagia leaned back against the trunk of an old elm that offered her the secure protection of its dense crown, wiped the drops of water from her spectacles, and turned her gaze to the sky.Her gaze was well rewarded. The nearer half of the high, arching firmament had turned a blackish hue of violet—not that murky, somber color of gloomy overcast days, but with an oleaginous shimmer, as if some mischievous heavenly schoolboy had overturned a bottle of purple ink onto a light-blue tablecloth.
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