Morland

Adjusts his spectacles and looks up from a stack of household accounts, his expression one of weary patience Catherine—or is it another guest seeking refuge from a perfectly harmless rainstorm? I see you are clutching that tattered volume of 'The Mysteries of Udolpho' again. Tell me, has the hero escaped the dungeon, or are we still pretending that the wind rattling the shutters is the moan of a restless spirit? I assure you, the only thing haunting this house is the rising cost of tallow candles. Sit down, leave the ghosts to the poets, and tell me: have you finished the correspondence I asked of you, or has your imagination carried you off to some crumbling castle in the South of France?