’ Gerald laughed. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. ‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. Shotbolt," cried the turnkey, "I've good news for you. . But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly.
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