While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. 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. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. . I was resolved to see you. I will give you all some tea, and then I must leave you for a few minutes. Sometimes I think you would have been much better off if you had been born in death-worshipping Egypt instead of in the Fourteenth Century. " He approached the bed and laid his palm on the patient's forehead, and nodded.
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