‘I hate him! I hate him!’ she told herself.
She drove on.
She did not see the green buds in the hedgerows, the primroses growing in the grass or hear the cuckoos calling in the trees.
Usually she would have been entranced by the blue of the sky as it was reflected in the small streams they passed.
There was so much to see in the countryside, but Corena was thinking of her father.
He was imprisoned in a house, or perhaps only a small hut somewhere in Greece and her whole being went out to him.
“I will – save you – Papa – I will – save you!” she whispered beneath her breath.
She felt that he would be aware of her prayers and her love for him.
It was fifteen miles to Lord Warburton’s house and it was just after twelve o’clock when Corena saw ahead of her a huge mansion standing near a
