‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall. Listen, Jack. She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor. ’ ‘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. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. All right! I’m off.
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