207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. There is a new life, different from the old life of dependence, possible. ‘You don’t believe her?’ ‘My dear Major Alderley, I do not know her,’ Mrs Sindlesham pointed out. " "You are right," replied Darrell; "the weakness is past. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. She leaned back in her chair. That Mr. Mr. Jonathan threw open the street-door. We’ve brought a carriage to take you back to London, and I’ve settled with Trodger, who has just given me a coherent account of the affair.
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