Feels as if I’ve been dashing back and forth about the whole country, if you want to know. ’ ‘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. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. Quilt, meanwhile, came down, examined the door, and finding it unfastened, locked it with a bitter imprecation on his brother-janizary's carelessness.
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