” “It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. " O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket—and purposely let the battered photograph fall to the ground. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. It was a letter.
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