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’ Lucilla let out a peal of laughter. Only now it does not matter at all because Joan has come and has seen me. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. 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.
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