“You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. She's plenty clean below. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. He might spend the rest of his days at McClintock's in perfect security.
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