It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. ’ ‘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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