She fled. “Now here hath been dawning another blue day; I’m just a poor woman, please take it away. ’ ‘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. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. I'm hungry.
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