The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. But the Remenhams in the days of Charles the First, with the need for an escape route from Cromwell’s increasingly victorious forces, had cut a trapdoor through its floor into the cellars below, and thence hewn the long rough passageway that led underground right outside the boundary of the estate. I had no idea she could go so fast. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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