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” “All right. 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. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. The Widgett method of thought puzzled her weakly rhetorical mind. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. I’ve had enough of it.
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