Anna sighed as she reflected that her sister had simply revelled in her indiscretions. 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. “And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. . We came on here at once. Mr. For many of them it will smirch us forever. Although she had refused to answer his impertinent questions. ” She blushed deeply. “Soul to soul. ’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman.
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