‘Then I don’t advise you to visit Remenham House. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. . The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death.
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