Annabel shook her head. ’ ‘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. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. Remember that he’s not at all a bad sort, and to speak frankly, he’s your salvation. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. org Section 4.
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