Chapter 17
Supper, as promised, was a short, informal affair consisting mainly of cold meats and an astonishing variety of homemade pickles and chutneys in an equal variety of jars and pots. Many of them, George strongly suspected, had been presented to the rector the previous day by his parishioners. Jimmy and Peter, fresh from the cross-country run, ate like young wolves, and Agnes managed likewise to pack away a surprising amount of food, although her manners were daintier than those of her younger brothers. George, too ate ravenously. He felt on top of the world. Matthew was his, finally his. Everything was perfect.
Almost before the supper dishes had been cleared away, the first evening guests started to arrive.
When Evelyn Connaught said she had “some people” coming round for drin
