Her fingers reached up to capture a soft, silky chestnut tendril. Her mane, falling in soft waves to just below her hips, was her single vanity. Vanity, she knew, was a sin, and something her old Mother Superior had despaired of Alice every overcoming.
She knew that upon taking her vows as a nun that her hair would be shorn, but the eventuality had seemed a far time off. She gazed up at Father Black unhappily, but was accepting of her fate. If she were truly to become a proper nun, she knew she would have to suffer her punishments without bemoaning the consequences.
So Alice was shocked when Father Black ordered her to remove her habit. At her hesitation, he pinned her with those all-seeing eyes. "You seek to disobey me, Alice?" She quickly shook her head. "Then remove your habit."
U
