The note-passer lagged behind with her. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. ‘Do not mix yourself in mine, and perhaps you will not die. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir.
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