‘Now, madame, tell me all about your life in France. And on Monday and Tuesday she had failed to find him here. I want you. We smirk, and we’re a bit—furtive. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. ’ ‘Melusine,’ shrieked the nun. There would be no moon. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support.
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