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. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. “All right so far,” she said to herself. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. . ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one.
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