Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. We felt like thieves. "Ah!" exclaimed Sir James. “I didn’t know Mr. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop. ” She looked around the apartment again. But it was only six-thirty. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. Mrs. John knew better. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. ” He called for a hansom.
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