’ ‘This, monsieur le major, is entirely your own affair,’ said the lady, haughty again. “Yes, but maybe later. ‘Certainly you are imbecile. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. Before he could make the thrust, however, he was seized behind by Ireton, who flung himself upon him. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did. “No, the only person I told before tonight was my mother and father. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. Nevertheless it was overwhelming. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response.
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