Trust you. I knew it. Perhaps it was loneliness. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful.
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