He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. You're in luck to-night, widow. ’ ‘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. “I shall come back, if at all, a new man. Jack, however, had an expedient for mastering this difficulty. " "He's let out for a few hours," laughed Kneebone; "but he's going back again after supper.
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