"Rowland," said Lady Trafford, regarding him with a look of indescribable anxiety, "you have assured me that I shall behold my son. But it was under false names, so I dare say it ain’t valid. There was a long silence between them. Occasionally he relit his pipe. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. ’ With pretty imperiousness, she gestured to the bed beside her. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. ’ She drew a heavy breath. She used to play violin, you know. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh.
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