"I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. ” He stepped past her to the door and closed it. It isn’t. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. Melusine tilted her head to catch sight of her neck, and froze, staring at the image. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target.
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