I can’t stand it. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. "Of course, there is a criminal element, but the percentage is no larger than that in America or Europe.
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