Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. 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. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Thankfully only the children were home, so there was no one to take active notice that she had been accompanied on her way home from school. As they 56 approached the manor, she was permitted to peep her head outside the chariot's front window. " "You!" "Didn't I tell you that the fugitive Darrell gave me a glove! But we'll speak of this hereafter.
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