" The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. "I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely.
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