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. Her companion was a person of no inferior condition. The dress of the dwarfish Jew was not, however, favourable to this expedient. The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. They traveled to distant places, had an apartment in Constantinople and a villa in Paris. Ann Veronica felt no repulsion at the prospect. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. Spurling," rejoined Ireton; "we can taste the rum when he returns.
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