“There is no time for that. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. . “You seem to forget that my sister is—married.
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