‘I think, Mr Twemlow, you never saw that distant connexion of yours before to-day?’
‘No, never.’
‘Now that you do see him, you see what he is. You are not proud of him?’
‘To say the truth, Mrs Lammle, no.’
‘If you knew more of him, you would be less inclined to acknowledge him. Here is another portrait. What do you think of it?’
Twemlow has just presence of mind enough to say aloud: ‘Very like! Uncommonly like!’
‘You have noticed, perhaps, whom he favours with his attentions? You notice where he is now, and how engaged?’
‘Yes. But Mr Lammle—’
She darts a look at him which he cannot comprehend, and shows him another portrait.
‘Very good; is it not?’