"I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. " "Would you have had him spare my mother's murderer?" cried Winifred. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. . ’ ‘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. While they were still engaged in looking round the doctor returned with a nurse and assistant.
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