’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. ” He threw his head back. Not wisely but too well. Ennison, or any other young man. 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. ’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting.
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