" "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. She was reasonably certain why. “My dear,” the letter ran, “I have to tell you that your sister Gwen has offended your father very much.
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