’ ‘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. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious.
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