And not a worthy tome in sight. ’ ‘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. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. Framed in one of the square ports of the packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical mask.
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