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. "Thanks," he said, holding out a thin white hand. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. Even her own history teacher, Mr. Wild," observed Austin, as he put on his coat, and adjusted his minor bob. He then arose, and, taking a few turns in the chamber, stopped suddenly before her. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. "Ay. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear.
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