"Mother!" cried Jack, springing towards her. ‘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. Lucy gestured to Michelle to follow her downstairs. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. She told us that it was a disguise.
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