I speak no harm of her. ’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. Turning quickly round, in the hope of discovering the thief, he was no less surprised than distressed—for in spite of his faults, the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow—to perceive Jack Sheppard in custody. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. "I need not remind you, Sir Rowland, that I am aware you are deeply implicated in the Jacobite plot which is now known to be hatching. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. He filled her glass with champagne. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation.
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