Sentence The Third

As she buried her face in the folds of the ancient, soiled wimple that had once been the head-covering of Sister Evadne Eglentine, Daphne Dumbiedykes, dependable, reliable, stolid, Good Old Daphne Dumbiedykes, doyen among the most eminent circle of Late-Early Mediaevalists and Romance Scholars, wept and her body shook while she absorbed the information she had just acquired from centuries old scratchings on the damp cell walls – scratchings which were unmistakably in the hand of Sister Evadne, and under the heading My Last and Final Testament, claiming that it was under a capias, or arrest warrant, issued by Sir Parlane MacFarlane that she had been seized while sheltering in the Monastery at Holy Rude, a place of guaranteed sanctuary and known well to Daphne as – a lifelong ailurophile – she had acquired all of her pets, for successive generations, from the dedicated cat-sanctuary hard by the ancient site; and – everyone of them a female – had named them all Evadne, in honour of her own Mother and of her Mother's namesake, Sister Evadne, herself a distant relation though – as her calling would define – certainly not a direct ancestor, an atticism of which Daphne was fully cognisant and happy to acknowledge as her own elegant description and placement of Sister Evadne in the glorious Eglentine-Dumbiedykes Ancestral Canon.