ABSTRACT
On the morrow, at the appointed hour, the real Otterbourne jewels were consigned to the representatives of the Otterbourne bankers, and Hurstmanceaux, like all kind-hearted persons, now that he had got his own way, felt sorry he had been obliged to enforce it, especially as he heard that his sister was unwell, and could see no one. ‘Poor little Sourisette,’ he thought remorsefully. ‘Perhaps I am too hard on her. She had a beast of a husband. She is more to be pitied than blamed.’
