CHAPTER TENFleur walked slowly up the drive leading to Greystone Priory.
Every now and then she stopped to rest, feeling not tired but weak about the legs and at times overcome by a slight giddiness that, however, soon passed.
She felt as if she was taking part in another adventure as she had not told Mrs. Reynolds where she was going that afternoon.
The bus had carried her, as she had been told, to the stone gates of Greystone Priory. As they had left the suburbs of Melford behind, she had seen in the distance the vast factory of the Mitcham Works.
It was not actually on the road they took from the town but it covered such a vast area that it was conspicuous a long way off. It was, of course, camouflaged, but even so the many long buildings, stretching out like the arms of an octopus,
