Go when you will, you find a gravel-train from Marseilles arriving to supply the deficiencies caused by memento-cabbaging vandals whose affections have miscarried.
Yet who really knows the story of Abelard and Heloise?
Precious few people.

The names are perfectly familiar to every body, and that is about all.

With infinite pains I have acquired a knowledge of that history, and I propose to narrate it here, partly for the honest information of the public and partly to show that public that they have been wasting a good deal of marketable sentiment very unnecessarily.
STORY OF ABELARD AND HELOISE Heloise was born seven hundred and sixty-six years ago.

She may have had parents.

There is no telling.