She turned her head—she moved away. I was still standing at my window looking on: as she passed she started and stopped short, her face expressing the greatest possible bewilderment and amazement.
'It is not ...' she cried—'Surely—No—Yet the resemblance is so great. Sir, I thought—at first—you were a gentleman of my acquaintance. You are so much like him that I venture to ask you who you are?'
'A prison bird, Madam. Nothing more,'
'Yes, but you are so like that gentleman. May I ask your name?'
'My name, at your service, Madam, is Halliday. My friends call me Will Halliday.'
'Will Halliday. Are you a brother—but that cannot be—of Mr. Matthew Halliday?'
'I am his first cousin.'
'Matthew Halliday's first cousin? But he is rich. Does he allow you to remain in this place?'
'It is not only by the sufferance of my cousin Matthew but by his desire that I am here.'
'By his desire! Yes—I know something of your cousin, sir. It is by his desire. I discover new virtues in your cousin the more I learn of him. I suppose, then, that you are not on friendly terms with your cousin?'