“I am just back from Paris. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. You sent back my Christmas checks. “I’ve thought about it. "I am. You may have something to conceal, you may not. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him.
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