’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. I'm almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your father in any way resembled you, my youngster. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. “Let us sit down for a moment,” he had said.
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