"Now stand before me, Poll. ’ ‘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 head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. ” “No, I don’t. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware.
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