I loathe this room. "How, Sir?" "Except by adoption. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Read it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lancashire. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. "Jack!" exclaimed Thames. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers.
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