She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. I see. ’ ‘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 could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago.
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