Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. . ’ ‘You think it would have been better for me to stay as a nun and be killed like the Valades?’ said Melusine, brutally frank. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. Hers were less noble, yet stately. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac.
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