She too progressed along slowly, one step at a time; it was wearisome and she was deadly tired.

She was beginning to form plans now that she had arrived in France.

All along she had made up her mind that she would begin by seeking out the Abbe Foucquet, for he would prove a link 'twixt her husband and herself.

She knew that Percy would communicate with the abbe; had he not told her that the rescue of the devoted old man from the clutches of the Terrorists would be one of the chief objects of his journey?
It had never occurred to her what she would do if she found the Abbe Foucquet gone from Boulogne.
"He! la mere! your passport!" The rough words roused her from her meditations.

She had moved forward, quite mechanically, her mind elsewhere, her thoughts not following the aim of her feet.