‘It will suit me very well that you go away, because you are a person without sense and I do not wish to talk to you. “What made you think” he said, abruptly, with the gleam of avidity in his face, “that love makes people happy?” “I know it must. 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. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. I hope I may never come near her. Wood. She could tell that he was leering at her.
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