"At a limping run, he vanished into the narrow opening between the northwest corner of the manteion and the southwest corner of the cenoby."
"Her room had been the smallest and meanest in the old cenoby on Silver Street, with a ceiling that dripped at every shower; yet it had not been too small or too mean for a window past whose threadbare drape wisps of light crept on even the darkest nights."
"I got our cenoby ready for them, and in those days I used to look like -- like Dahlia, I nearly said, sib, but you never knew Dahlia."