"Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that. You had better let me go again. "I ought to tell you that Mr. I am your servitor. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent.
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