” “It came,” he said. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ‘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. She removed it. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. One can learn and understand only by personal experience, by actual contact with the realities of life. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. ’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. ‘Very well, then. .
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