” That phrase about dragging the truth through swamps of nonsense she remembered from Capes. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. ” “Yes, I believe that was the name. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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