’ ‘I do not care any more about the portrait,’ Melusine said, opening the door to the attic corridor that gave off onto the row of little rooms that served as private cells for the senior nuns. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. Austin, or any man of similar dimensions, would have found wholly impossible. To find the incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the way. ” Brendon hesitated for a moment. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams.
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