“Don’t!” cried Ann Veronica, struggling faintly, and he released her. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square.
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