“Bother it all!” she swore. " "Never fear," replied the lady. ’ ‘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. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself.
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