’ ‘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. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. The minute he discovers Roding here, he’ll know something is up. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr. "Now stand before me, Poll. It is what I have done.
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