‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. But leave me here in my home, child, I will disintegrate if I am exposed. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. ‘If you imagine you’re going to use one ungentlemanly act to manipulate me, you very much mistake the matter. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow.
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