Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. No man knew whence she had come nor why. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. . ‘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.
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