CHAPTER II.
CONCERNING FOOLS In the huge, oak-panelled hall of the Abbey, Sir Beverley Evesham sat alone.
A splendid fire of logs blazed before him on the open hearth, and the light from a great chandelier beat mercilessly down upon him.

His hair was thick still and silvery white.

He had the shoulders of a strong man, albeit they were slightly bowed.

His face, clean-shaven, aristocratic, was the colour of old ivory.

The thin lips were quite bloodless.