’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. But this plan (probably from its danger) was instantly abandoned; not, however, before her momentary hesitation had been taken advantage of by her pursuers, who, redoubling their efforts at this juncture, materially lessened the distance between them. ’ Gerald laughed. .
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