She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. "Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. ‘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. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. He will wish to have his fears laid to rest. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. " "He has done too much already," answered the widow.
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