. "Confusion!" he cried; "something has happened. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. ‘This was a picture of Mary Remenham that I have found today.
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