“Annabel,” she said brusquely. 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. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced.
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