“I hope that you are going to allow me to see something of you during your stay in London, for the sake of old times. Imbecile. ‘That rascally knave sent you to become a French nun?’ Looking positively terrified, the girl nodded dumbly. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. You see, my riddle is solved. "But, I half suspect, of your father. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience.
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