The Rev. ‘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. ” The sensation produced was gratifying enough. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. He was a little embarrassed. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. . But two weeks later he returned. .
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