He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. The whole affair interested him deeply. And Mr. ’ Hilary Roding groaned, but obediently followed Gerald as he began to make his way through the trees towards the back to a vantage point from where they might examine the rear of Remenham House. Then her eyes flashed. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. She glanced into his face.
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