Mr. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. Of all the entirely English women I know, you’re the only one with a French accent. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. " "Only as a brother?" persisted Kneebone. We ourselves have been similarly circumstanced. "You have both," replied Wood, fervently. G.
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