It was, moreover, the almost-respectable form of historical fiction which is merely history-with-conversation, so to speak. An imaginative biography rather than an imagined story. Evelyn Payne-Ellis, whoever she might be, had provided portraits and a family tree, and had made no attempt, it seemed, to what he and his cousin Laura used to call in their childhood “write forsoothly.” There were no “by our Ladys,” no “nathelesses” or “varlets.” It was an honest affair according to its lights.
