Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. Felix. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. She crushed the letter in her hand. Having ascertained that a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her, and have already had the few effects I possess, conveyed on board.
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