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. “Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. Notwithstanding the heat of the season,—which was not, however, found particularly inconvenient in this subterranean region,—a large heaped-up fire blazed ruddily in one corner, and lighted up a circle of as villanous countenances as ever flame shone upon. " "If you're in earnest," rejoined Blueskin, "give me that bag of gold. Mr. " "Funny, about that coat. Half a minute, Vee. ” “Not in the least,” Anna answered calmly.
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