“I shall just go to bed, then, and read in bed,” she cried jestingly, when he let her go. “I’m in the middle of a thrilling story about a young man who has every vice there is! I’m sure he’s got some vices that even Selena Gault’s never heard of. I’ll go on with that; and if I want a little variety, I’ll read the book Cousin Carfax gave me about Chinese Rugs; and if that doesn’t satisfy me, I’ll read Casanova’s Memoirs. No, I won’t! I’ll read Canon Pusey’s Sermons or something of that sort⁠ ⁠… something that just rambles on and isn’t modern or clever! So run off, and don’t worry about me. By the way, I had my first caller this morning, when you were over at the Manor.”

“Who was that, Mother?” enquired Wolf, flicking his stick against his boot and thinking of the tombstone in Mr. Torp’s yard.