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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. “He’s got good taste, you know. . ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. There is everywhere at night in China the original fear of darkness. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. He took Diane out. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. ” Some one hidden from Ann Veronica appeared to be marshalling the assembly. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. Go to her. ” “It offered from fifteen to two-and-twenty shillings a week—for drudgery.

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