But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. He put his arms around her in a circular embrace. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. ‘Your niece, ma’am.
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