Mrs. Arles lingered a moment to wind up her tatting. St. George, who had at first stood like a golden bronze cast immovably in an irate surprise, then shook his shoulders, and stepped towards the table and carelessly parted the papers.
"Remarkable manuscript," said he, as if just then he could find nothing else to say. "Plainer than type. A purely American hand. Is it that of the young lady?"
"Miss Changarnier? Yes."
"She was apparent heiress?"
"Yes."
"What does she expect to become of her?"
"How can I tell?"
"You can conjecture."
"She has not yet begun to consider, herself, you see."
"She has other property?"