‘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. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She
could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all
women. “I think you are getting to
understand me better. I don’t think I shall ever care for this bonnet again. When he’s found out where she’s staying, I’ll have him keep an eye on
Valade’s residence in Paddington, I think.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 06-07-2024 04:54:00