In the upper hall he paused to listen. ’ ‘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. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. Lucy could feel blood welling underneath a bump half swelling and already half-healing on her scalp.
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