‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. Such a mystery as you have set up. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. The worst was over now. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. " "You mustn't talk. That’s— that’s my private life. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn.
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