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. She made a step forward. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. ToC Mr. Chairs were overturned. The Oriental waterfronts were rank with the stuff. She was the first to hear another car approaching from the street, an odd occurrence in an elementary school lot that had been abandoned for the weekend.
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