A brief description will suffice for them. They were silent for a time. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. 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. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky.
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