At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. He bent over to Anna at once. Give me your staff. This woman knows me—’ throwing the remark at Lucilla ‘—and that I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. Run away now, please.
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