Explore "The Phantom Car" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Manthon drove his car slowly and thoughtfully along the twenty miles of road that intervened between Lincombe and the prosperous and respectable cathedral city of Marchwick, where, thirty odd years ago, he had been born.
In those days the leading firm of solicitors in Marchwick had been Manthon and Manthon, in other words, Roy's father had been the surviving partner in a firm which had been established over a hundred years. To all practical purposes, the Manthons had been county people, and for a radius of thirty or forty miles all the leading families placed their affairs in the capable hands of Mr. Nicholas Manthon. And there, in Marchwick, almost under the shadow of the old cathedral, Roy Manthon himself had been brought up in a sort of monastic residence where the family had flourished during their long and hospitable career. In the course of time, he had gone to Winchester and, thence, back again into the office of his father with the idea of carrying on the best traditions of the house.