I can’t rest or work or settle down to anything while things are like this between you and me. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. ’ ‘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. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. ” “I think,” Anna said, “that it was only his manner.
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