’ ‘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. It was clear it must be to-morrow. ” She suddenly caught hold of his shoulders and drew him down towards her. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. Here, then, but for the time and place, might be another Sidney Carton.
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