’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. “Indeed, no,” he answered. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. But, taking the chisel from Blueskin, Jack quickly forced back the bolt. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. “You are so sweet, Lucy. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. " "That I'll engage not to do. 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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