’ *** 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. That’s why we are here. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. “My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all. If you are going that way, why not join us. She was nestled under his bedspread.
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