They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. ‘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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