"On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. ” “I didn’t mind that little argument. "Thinking it likely you might desire to have this information, I prepared accordingly. It was, in fact, a group of interests quite unlike any other group, peculiar and special, and one to be thoroughly ashamed of.
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