He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. That paper must be signed, or I take my departure.
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