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. Teddy handed her into the second-class compartment her season-ticket warranted, and declared she was “simply splendid. “So you come from Anna, do you?” she remarked. If you attempt to play the traitor, you will do so at the hazard of your life. It appears that he was an unsuccessful admirer of the lady in question, and he admits that, under the influence of drink, he broke into her rooms, and there made a determined attempt at suicide. “Annabel;” he moaned. What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. . “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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