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. "It is useless," replied Mrs. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. "Why can't I?" "You will be compromised. " "I should think not," observed Jonathan, who had some practice in the knight's moods, and knew how to humour him. Lucy marveled at the billiards table and the sauna. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. I spent many happy days there.
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