The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. It was a second reminder that against her claim to go free and untrammelled there was a case to be made, that after all it was true that a girl does not go alone in the world unchallenged, nor ever has gone freely alone in the world, that evil walks abroad and dangers, and petty insults more irritating than dangers, lurk. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. Mac's.
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