’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. 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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