This was a much more serious task than he anticipated. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. He even hugged her a few times, something he had never done. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. 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. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. \" he replied, though it was obvious that he was lying.
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