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255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. However, it doesn't much signify. "In Canton. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray.

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