"By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate.
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