’ Melusine bubbled over and warmth rose in Gerald’s chest. ’ ‘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 was silent. ’ Handing over the guineas, he added, ‘For you. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost.
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