. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Or run me through. ’ ‘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. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. She turned quickly.
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