Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. Clientèle was of the most transitory character. The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy. He had to know the truth, Melusine. Ramage?” he asked. “Why not? They tell me that London is impossible till after ten, and I want my first impressions to be favourable.
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