’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. Montague Hill. The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food.
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