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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. It’s no good. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. ‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. ‘I thought you said you take housebreaking very seriously. ’ ‘Eh bien? And so?’ ‘He says as how he’s going to take you with him to France with his new wife. There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged. ” His voice rose and fell amidst the music and the singing of Tristan and King Mark, like a voice heard in a badly connected telephone.
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