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Wood, popping her head through the window. She turned a resolute face southward. It was from Brendon. ‘Sindlesham? But Gerald has gone out of town to visit that very person. I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Manning’s handwriting had an air of being clear without being easily legible; it was large and rather roundish, with a lack of definition about the letters and a disposition to treat the large ones as liberal-minded people nowadays treat opinions, as all amounting to the same thing really—a yearssmoothed boyish rather than an adult hand. Wood the carpenter. Taber and no one comment upon it.
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