The case of Cyril Alardyce must be discussed, her mother's illusions and the rights of the family attended to.

Being vague herself as to what all this amounted to, she had to take counsel with her father.

She took her letters in her hand and went downstairs.

It was past eleven, and the clocks had come into their reign, the grandfather's clock in the hall ticking in competition with the small clock on the landing.

Mr.Hilbery's study ran out behind the rest of the house, on the ground floor, and was a very silent, subterranean place, the sun in daytime casting a mere abstract of light through a skylight upon his books and the large table, with its spread of white papers, now illumined by a green reading-lamp.