"Hancock."
"Why, he's my uncle."
"Oh!" cried Fanny, "I am sorry."
"That he's my uncle?"
"No—that I said that——"
"Oh, that doesn't matter. I've often wished him boiled. It's awfully funny, though, that he should be this man Bevan's solicitor—very."
"I have an idea," said Verneede, leaning forward in his chair and pressing the points of his fingers together.
"My dear young lady, may I make a suggestion?"
"Yes," said Fanny.