’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. "It is Jonathan. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that. "No such thing," rejoined Thames. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. . "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. " "Not in this world," returned Jonathan. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws.
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