There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. ‘Come on. She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out. ’ She grasped the girl’s arm. She struggled not to be afraid. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed.
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