“I can say no more. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. ‘I am fascinated. ‘As Madame Valade, you will be an émigré, not a nun. And when I have steeped him to the lips in vice and depravity; when I have led him to the commission of every crime; when there is neither retreat nor advance for him; when he has plundered his benefactor, and broken the heart of his mother—then—but not till then, I will consign him to the fate to which I consigned his father. . It was a mad half-hour.
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