Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. ‘That is a very English name. It does not work, I still suffer madness. It must be some days before you can arrange for her to make an identification.
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