Then Cyprian spoke, still without moving; his rigidity outlined against the transparent pane.
"How far are we from Black Towers?"
"We pass within thirty miles of it."
"Then...." Their eyes met.
Aunt B.'s head jerked suddenly forward.
"I thought you'd understand." ...
CHAPTER XI
The Autumn twilight was thickening with milky opal reflections when they rolled through the heavy iron gates of the park. Gigantic trees shadowed the curving drive; every now and then sending a swirl of jewel-coloured leaves to join their brothers carpeting the soft turf.
They passed one copper beech, tinted like the understrands of Ferlie's hair. But, though the grounds were obviously well cared-for, nothing could relieve a brooding sense of desolation, due to the over-luxuriant vegetation which darkened the surroundings of an already dark, if beautiful, house.