The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 395: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

318 REYNOLDS’ WORKS this resolution they came in order that as he himself grew up he should not have his sensitive feelings wounded by being compelled to regard himself as an interloper in the bosom of that poor and humble family. Besides, they did not wish the tenderest years of his life to be saddened and disturbed by the knowledge that he had been torn from his own legiti- mate parents; and thus was it for the poor boy’s sake that he was brought up to consider himself as the son of those who from mere charity had adopted him. I esteemed the Deverils; I was on terms of intimacy with them, apart from being their employer in the dramatic profession, and they confided all their motives and plans to me. Now, my lord, I have told you everything with which I am acquainted on this subject; but I may repeat what I ere now said in the street that the child who was so adopted had the tiny mark of a strawberry just in this part where the neck joins the shoulder.”’ Thus speaking, Mr. Thompson indicated on his own person the spot to which he alluded with regard to William Deveril. The marquis had lstened with the profoundest attention and interest. Doctor Ferney, with his countenance buried in his hands, had not appeared to listen at all; but he nevertheless had lost not a single word of everything Thomp- son had been saying, and he suddenly raised his eyes at the very instant that Thompson indicated the place where the strawberry-mark on Wilham Deveril’s shoulder would be found. ‘““ Yes, yes; it was there too that I —” He had ejaculated those words with a startling abruptness as he sprang up to his feet; but suddenly stoppingshort, with- out finishing the sentence, he placed his hand upon his brow, and sank back again on the sofa with an expression of inef- fable anguish sweeping over his features. “Doctor Ferney,’ said the Marquis of Eagledean, ap- proaching the physician, and speaking in a voice of the deep- est solemnity, ‘‘ whatever you have to make known, I adjure you to reveal it, in the name of that Providence which has brought about the incidents of the hour that is passing.” ‘Do you, my lord,’’ inquired the physician, “ know that William Deveril, — the lost child whom the poor players adopted? ”’ “I do,’ responded the marquis. ‘‘ He is married to my ECORNIE DOO KS (E(0)