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The car swished towards them. The cleric with a concern to help the orphans of Dingle bestowed a benign smile and raised two stiff fingers towards the men on the sidewalk. Then the car was heading down the street.

'Was that an ecclesiastical blessing?' asked the grocer.

'It might have been,' conceded Judge Comyn, 'though I doubt it.'

'And what was he dressed in those clothes for?' asked Lurgan Keane.

'Because he's a priest of the Holy Church,' said the judge.

'He never is,' said the grocer hotly, 'he's a farmer from Wexford.'


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Tags: Frederick Forsyth Thriller