The latch had not fully caught. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night. ’ ‘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 could have little comfort there, indeed. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. " This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still in the realm of strange fancies.
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