“Heaven knows!” said Mr. " "And so this is my reward for having made you the tip-top cracksman you are," muttered Blueskin;—"to be turned off at a moment's notice, because I silenced a noisy woman. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. I suppose most of our daughters would marry organ-grinders if they had a chance—at that age. 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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