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He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. ” He put his head on one side, pulled down the corners of his mouth, and looked at her over his glasses. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. Wood. "And when I further tell you," continued Jack, "that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is sufficiently disinterested. I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different.
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