’ ‘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 sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. . Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. ’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed.
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