I want to tell every one. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. ‘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. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love.
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