’ ‘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 not in evidence here, not a sign of it. " "Ah, I see. He had more time for her. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. "I can, and will.
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