‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. Plote was sleeping or deaf. ” “Exactly! And so you came along to me. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes.
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