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. “Why not?” he exclaimed. In your heart you know very well that this is absurd. She is a fortune-teller and a vessel for man’s pleasure. Wood in the deepest mourning. How many nuns were there in England who might have occasion to spy on Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom? The presence of the French refugees took on greater significance. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. Take it, if I die.
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