’ *** 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. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. “You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. ‘When we met probably, and you threatened me at the first. Later Lord Charvill told Jarvis that it had been precisely the same at the outset.
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