\" Michelle's shoulders sank, feeling the weight of the pack. . One transgression; he was sure of that. She traced him by his scent. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. Michelle helped her mother clear the table and Lucy thanked her for the meal. ‘You don’t know him. Diamonds! You shall have all that you can carry away, sacks full if you like. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. 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.
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