She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. ” She whispered. ’ ‘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. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. When he had finished he took up the wine list and ordered a bottle of dry champagne. 1.
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