"Marion!" he cried, "Marion!"
The girl stopped, then turned to him inquiringly.
The lawyer was breathing quickly, and his face was pale, his eyes intent as he leaned forward staring at her.
"My God!" he breathed. "Her face—her voice—her hair! It must be—I can't be dreaming—Marion, Marion!"
Nina came toward him. For some reason she too appeared greatly moved.
"My name is not Marion," she said; "my name is Nina, but Marion was my mother's name."
"Your—mother's name? Then you are her daughter—you must be the child of Marion—Marion North!"
"No, of Marion Carroll."
"Marion Carroll! Oh, thank God, at last, at last!"
He sprang forward and clasped Nina's hand.