No.

It was not on that morning that I saw Dona Rita's incredible sister with her brown, dry face, her gliding motion, and her really nun-like dress, with a black handkerchief enfolding her head tightly, with the two pointed ends hanging down her back.

Yes, nun-like enough.

And yet not altogether.

People would have turned round after her if those dartings out to the half-past six mass hadn't been the only occasion on which she ventured into the impious streets.