“It is not, of course, a pleasant subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. And if she was ever found living in the area like that, homeless, John could somehow find out. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. If he recovers he may not accuse her.
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