CHAPTER LXIX

The Man from Cloister Wood Smoke was coming from the chimney of the little cottage in Cloister Wood. A small fire burnt in the kitchen grate, and a man with a fork in his hand stood watching gravely the sizzling of a cutlet. The blinds of the cottage were drawn, the doors locked tight. A curious passer-by might have knocked and continued to knock without receiving a reply. It was late in the afternoon, drawing on to evening, and he had come by the direct road, which avoided Garre. After a while the cutlet was cooke…