Remembering what my brother had said on the previous night, that in the presence of this man he felt himself brought face to face with some indescribable wickedness, I could not but be surprised at the coincidence.

The whole story seemed to me now to resemble one of those puzzle pictures or maps which I have played with as a child, where each bit fits into some other until the outline is complete.

It was as if I were finding the pieces one by one of a bygone history, and fitting them to one another until some terrible whole should be gradually built up and stand out in its complete deformity.
Dr.Empson spoke gravely of John's illness, and entertained without reluctance the proposal of Mrs.Temple, that Dr.Dobie, a celebrated physician in Derby, should be summoned to a consultation.

Dr.Dobie came more than once, and was at last able to report an amendment in John's condition, though both the doctors absolutely forbade anyone to visit him, and said that under the most favourable circumstances a period of some weeks must elapse before he could be moved.
Mrs.Temple invited me to remain at Royston until my brother should be sufficiently convalescent to be moved; and both she and Constance, while regretting the cause, were good enough to express themselves pleased that accident should detain me so long with them.
As the reports of the doctors became gradually more favourable, and our minds were in consequence more free to turn to other subjects, I spoke to Mrs.Temple one day about the picture, saying that it interested me, and asking for some particulars as to the life of Adrian Temple.
"My dear child," she said, "I had rather that you should not exhibit any curiosity as to this man, whom I wish that we had not to call an ancestor.

I know little of him myself, and indeed his life was of such a nature as no woman, much less a young girl, would desire to be well acquainted with.