The proof of her
success was the unique Frensham's. A consciousness of the
uniqueness of Frensham's was also in those eyes. Theoretically
Matthew Peel-Swynnerton's mental attitude towards lodging-house
keepers was condescending, but here it was not condescending. It
had the real respectfulness of a man who for the moment at any
rate is impressed beyond his calculations. His glance fell as he
said--
"Peel-Swynnerton." Then he looked up again.
He said the words awkwardly, and rather fearfully, as if aware
that he was playing with fire. If this Mrs. Scales was the long-
vanished aunt of his friend, Cyril Povey, she must know those two
names, locally so famous. Did she start? Did she show a sign of
being perturbed? At first he thought he detected a symptom of
emotion, but in an instant he was sure that he had detected
nothing of the sort, and that it was silly to suppose that he was
treading on the edge of a romance. Then she turned towards the
letter-rack at her side, and he saw her face in profile. It bore a
sudden and astonishing likeness to the profile of Cyril Povey; a
resemblance unmistakable and finally decisive. The nose, and the
curve of the upper lip were absolutely Cyril's.
Pages:
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760