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. ’ ‘It is you who will get the head blown off,’ threatened the young lady fiercely. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. ’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. ‘Eh bien?’ She thrust again, from the same place. Until then we mean to keep on hammering away.
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