A few random students gawked at them in the hall. 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. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. ‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. Such a beautiful boy he is, but his intelligence is marginal.
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