This forthright dame was so excited, she could not keep still, but paced about the parlour much as Melusine had done earlier. ‘As to that, I am a devil, say the nuns. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. In other respects, they were equally indecorous and offensive. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone.
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