Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Women want a father young enough to keep up with the children as they get older. ’ ‘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. Melusine crossed to open it, and immediately the knocking intensified in volume. "'It was all perfectly legal? "My word for it. .
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