Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. " "Hoddy," she repeated. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. No— no, it must never be. Pitt desired to know if he wanted anything further, and being answered in the negative, he excused himself on the plea that his attendance was required in the court at the Old Bailey, which was then sitting, and withdrew.
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