He grunted, and his grip gave. ‘Am I right in supposing you to have been a sister to the late Mr Jarvis Remenham?’ ‘Quite right. His build was medium, he would never 5 tower over his peers, yet his shoulders were broadening, betrayed by an undeveloped set of pectoral muscles underneath his button-down shirt that she could tell frustrated him. The quarry had passed out into the open sea. She turned with an effort. The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. Sir John once more looked around him.
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