Asprin, Robert Lynn – Catwoman – Tiger Hunt (With Lynn Abbey)

The two nuns swiftly crossed themselves, glanced at the crucifix, then at each other.

Sister Theresa got unsteadily to her feet. “In the garden.” She got a hand under Rose’s shoulder and motioned for Sister Agnes to do likewise. The mission walls were echoing with the footfalls of the other nuns responding to the crisis.

Fresh air and sunlight helped a bit, but it was the sight of unfamiliar faces that restored Rose’s sense of self. She tamed her hair and restored order to her clothing with expert gestures. She faced all of them, and none of them.

“I—I—I don’t know what came over me.” Her voice, ragged at the start, was impenetrable by the end.

Knowing looks flashed among the nuns. This, too, was familiar and expected. East Enders could hide the most profound despair in a heartbeat; it was their survival camouflage. They had skills a professional actor would envy. Rose’s performance might have worked on the streets, or on stage, but it failed to impress her audience in the garden. And she knew it.

“I haven’t felt too good for the last few days,” she said lamely, brushing her forehead as if checking for a fever. “I guess I got the flu. The flu can make you crazy. I saw it just last week on television—“

“Rose.”

The new voices made all of them—Rose and the avowed sisters alike—swiftly examine themselves within and without. Mother Joseph rarely came downstairs. She lived on the phone, dealing with the morass of Gotham’s so-called Social Services Department and wrangling the donations that kept the mission alive. She seldom left her office while the sun was shining, and it was never good news when she did.