Chapter 17

I doubt if London could furnish another man—a father confessor excepted—who, in so brief a time, could have learnt from the young Lady Dillon so much of her history as did O’Hagan. Side by side, they paced up and down a comparatively quiet street dipping riverward, and the girl (for she was no more) confided in this man, whom, twenty minutes earlier, she had not known. Does not that argue eloquently for my friend? Does it not make amends for much that seems harsh in his nature? For although, alas! women often are d…