’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. . Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. “Our business here is the right way. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. “And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured.
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