’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. ’ ‘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. "And equally easy to prove it," replied Jack, giving him the paper he had abstracted from Wild. From then until four in the afternoon there was nothing to do—the whole island went to sleep.
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