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He went to the door. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness.
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