CHAPTER XXXV

THE EAST TOWER With a cigarette between my lips I sat at the open window, looking out upon the skeleton trees of the orchard; for the buds of early spring were only just beginning to proclaim themselves. The idea of sleep was far from my mind. The attractive modern furniture of the room could not deprive the panelled walls of the musty antiquity which was their birthright. This solitary window deeply set and overlooking the orchard upon which the secret stair was said to open, struck a note of more remote antiquity…