It is what I have done. You do not believe me. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. ” “What is there to be feared?” he asked her quietly. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. “I suppose, Mr. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell.
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