She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. There was another little thing he had to say. As soon as they had got out, the vehicle was drawn up at the back of a tree near the cage. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. ‘Come, Hilary. She looked at him mournfully.
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