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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. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most
earnestly that I may come back to my old place as
“Your devoted friend,
“WALTER BRENDON. Opposite, his
pupil stood with bowed head and clasped hands. "Your uncle must
protect you. Await me in the coach. Thanks. I tell you what, Mr. . The little pucker in her brows became more
perceptible. ”
Brendon rose and came towards her with outstretched hand. Mike
answered the door while still toweling his hands dry. It was enough. He had not proceeded far when
he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly
approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself
behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled
over his brows, rode by at full speed.
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This video was uploaded to desenez.net on 04-07-2024 14:00:09