" "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. And I don’t. ‘Parbleu, the bullet is still inside you,’ Melusine guessed, remembering how the Mother Abbess had diagnosed Leonardo’s suffering when he had first come to the convent. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. ‘In fact you admitted only that you had no more weapons. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit.
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