He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. Manning. He is steeped in the conventions. But he knew. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. But the Remenhams in the days of Charles the First, with the need for an escape route from Cromwell’s increasingly victorious forces, had cut a trapdoor through its floor into the cellars below, and thence hewn the long rough passageway that led underground right outside the boundary of the estate. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. Wood in their favour.
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