fane

Mrs. Fane was no longer able to put him off with contradictions and vagueness: Michael demanded his family tree.

"Perhaps Fane will recite to us his discovery," said Mr. Cray, scratching his scurfy head with the gnawed end of a penholder.

Mrs. Fane looked at her son for a moment very intently, as if she were minded to tell him something.

Mrs. Fane put out her hand to stop Michael's flowing tirade, but he paid no attention, talking away less to her than to himself.

Mrs. Fane was now crying loud enough to make Michael stop in sudden embarrassment.