'—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. I admired your chivalry. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. In his way he was critical. —'It's all up with us,' says he; 'they've taken away our charter. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head.
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