‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. ’ The old man simply stared at her. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. He will have it that I’ve taken leave of my senses. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face. “I do not think that he is quite dead.
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