“I was sick of the make-believe. "Heaven grant you may have been wrongly informed with respect to Thames!" exclaimed Winifred; "but, I beseech you, on no account to mention what you have told me to my poor father. He well knows that but two lives—those of Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland Trenchard,—stand between you and the vast possessions of the family. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. I’m not discussing Shakespeare. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street.
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