" "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. " "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. ’ ‘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. " "Don't listen to him, father," cried Thames, unconscious of what was passing; "there are plenty of people outside. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. I suppose I ought to have been a man.
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