He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. ’ ‘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. Our ideal had fallen. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him.
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