Читать книгу The Passionate Quest онлайн

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Your sister,

Rose.

Benjamin Stone accepted his three charges, but, whether willingly or not, no man knew, for no one was in his confidence. He lived in a red brick villa which was built at the same time as the chapel, and which was situated next door to it. Both had been constructed on economical lines, and both combined the maximum of ugliness with the minimum of comfort. He himself was a big, lank man, with large bones but little flesh, a face which looked as though it were cut out of granite, cold grey eyes, and black hair only thinly streaked with grey. He generally wore a dark suit of pepper and salt mixture, an unusually high collar, and an inevitable black bow tie, arranged so that the ends neither drooped nor faltered in their task of ornamentation. He had bushy eyebrows which seemed to meet in a perpetual frown. His voice was hard and clear but almost singularly destitute of any human quality. He ate, drank and slept sparingly, he had apparently no pleasures, and his religion was a militant one. Occasionally, on Saturday afternoons, he played bowls. Even his debtors called him a just man.