"Thames!—Thames!" cried Winifred, rushing to the window. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. A kind but hard looking female officer named Rose took her into a room and sat her down at a small wooden table. Anna looked at her, startled. Montague Hill. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. He pulled down a chair to her left.
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