“It is so plain a case,” Mrs. Lammle goes on, “as between me (from the first relying on your honour) and you, that I will not waste another word upon it.” She looks steadily at Mr. Twemlow, until, with a shrug, he makes her a little one-sided bow, as though saying “Yes, I think you have a right to rely upon me,” and then she moistens her lips, and shows a sense of relief.

“I trust I have kept the promise I made through your servant, that I would detain you a very few minutes. I need trouble you no longer, Mr. Twemlow.”