’ ‘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. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. That's worth something to me; for I don't mind paying for revenge. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. “No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued.
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