She nodded. 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. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. "Take off the ruffles, Blueskin," rejoined Wild. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible.
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