Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. 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. "It is your son. “Turn me. He stood transfixed. " "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew.
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