It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. See what you have made of me. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. ” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A.
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