The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. It had been her home for hundreds of years. I am going to make a fresh start.
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