Chapter XXII
AN OLD FOOL
Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. When is the game?\"
She did her best to overhaul her own appearance for
63
the greater part of an hour, blotting lips, fluffing the
brush over her face. Robert Dow, merchant tailor, it was appointed that the sexton of St. I
understand. Narrow little beady brown eyes, and she’s got big
eyebrows like dead caterpillars. “I have nothing to say to you. I'll tell you something. Will you answer me a question first?”
“If I can,” Ennison said. The
door leaned inward. ” It was her last
evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner
vision. If Gerald knew, what should
stop Gosse from finding out? Perhaps he was even now at the lawyer. He might spend the rest of his days at
McClintock's in perfect security. There was also the
daunting task of getting dressed. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range
over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now
hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and
can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place
of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and
portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed.
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