’ ‘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. Ramage, speaking the simplest first thought of his heart. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. "All's bowman, my covey. “It is you alone, Nigel, who have saved me from being an old maid. But perhaps he was right not to tell you the truth. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked.
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