This time it was impossible for Julian to blame them.

The further the stranger's narrative advanced, the less worthy of serious attention he felt it to be.

The longer she spoke, the more disadvantageously she challenged comparison with the absent woman, whose name she so obstinately and so audaciously persisted in assuming as her own.
"Granting all that you have said," Julian resumed, with a last effort of patience, "what use could Mercy Merrick make of your letters and your clothes ?" "What use ?" repeated Grace, amazed at his not seeing the position as she saw it.

"My clothes were marked with my name.

One of my papers was a letter from my father, introducing me to Lady Janet.