’ ‘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. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. . He was—a millionaire. ” Courtlaw laughed hardly. The twists in his brain had suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he knew now exactly what he had done. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head.
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