CHAPTER 6
THE GRAND MANNERThe strange procession wended slowly down the short corridor which led off the hall to the tiny sun-trap on the south side of the building which was Mrs Faraday’s own private apartment.
Mr Campion seemed fully conscious of the honour which was being conferred upon him by the old lady, whose yellow-white fingers rested so lightly upon his arm. Marcus stalked behind them with the tea-cup. Mrs Faraday raised her stick. ‘In here,’ she said.
Campion opened the door and stood aside to let her pass. The room they entered was a perfect Queen Anne sitting-room, totally unexpected in this Victorian stronghold. The walls were white panelled and hung with delicate mezzotints. The old rose of the Chinese carpet was echoed in the brocaded hangings which framed the gentle bow
