His complexion, unlike my handsome uncle's, was very pale, and an early acquaintance with grief might be traced in the lines which furrowed his ample white forehead.
After a few turns through the room, he resumed his seat.
"Mr.Geoffrey Moncton," said he, grasping me warmly by the hand, "I wish sincerely that you could prove your legitimacy.

There is something about you that pleases and interests me.

If ever you stand in need of assistance you may rely upon me as your friend.

It is not Robert Moncton's bare assertion that will make me believe you a bastard.

Tell me all you know about yourself." I endeavoured to speak, but I was so completely overwhelmed by his unexpected kindness, that I could find no words to express my thanks, or comply with his request.
A loud knocking at the door, announced the arrival of Mr.Moncton.
"That is my uncle's knock," cried I, breaking the spell that bound me.
"We will talk over this matter again, Geoffrey.