’ ‘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. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security. Jonathan laughed scornfully. If only we work together. It comes over the mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour.
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