‘I don’t want to hurt you any more. He was damned if he knew what to do. He cherished her. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. with you. She felt sickeningly empty. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving.
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