E. ” “And now—I am to lose you. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. There is something sensual in the thought of lotus flowers. As long as your son observes that precept I'll befriend him, but no longer. 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.
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