No, everyone is dead. His mother worshipped him, but she died when he was scarcely eighteen, and his father before that. His mother is his adored memory. In all the mad scenes which he and his companions, I am afraid, have enacted in the Fontonka house, there is one set of rooms no one has dared to enter--her rooms--and he keeps flowers there, and an ever-burning lamp.
Used availability for Barbara Cartland's His Hour
May 1979 : UK Hardback