’ Lucilla burst into laughter and clapped her hands. ’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. ‘Flirting, Gerald? A new come-out for you. Only the next of kin. Ogilvy was full of a client’s trouble in that matter, a grave and even tragic trouble. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. Stanley’s acquaintance in the train and shown him one or two trifling civilities. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines.
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