He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. “Yes. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. ” Anna nodded. ’ ‘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.
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