"Well, I don't much believe in her," she remarked after a time in a low tone of voice.
Mrs.Murgatroyd looked indeed as if the life had been crushed out of her; she knelt on a chair, gazing piteously from behind the body of a Pomeranian dog which she clasped to her cheek, as if for protection.
"And that's my dad," said Evelyn, for there were two photographs in one frame.

The second photograph represented a handsome soldier with high regular features and a heavy black moustache; his hand rested on the hilt of his sword; there was a decided likeness between him and Evelyn.
"And it's because of them," said Evelyn, "that I'm going to help the other women.

You've heard about me, I suppose?
They weren't married, you see; I'm not anybody in particular.

I'm not a bit ashamed of it.

They loved each other anyhow, and that's more than most people can say of their parents." Rachel sat down on the bed, with the two pictures in her hands, and compared them--the man and the woman who had, so Evelyn said, loved each other.