17 up-train. "We went through your belongings. “But we satisfy one another. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. 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. Put him in the stocks, and there let him sleep off his drunken fit. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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