Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. “He is evidently a friend of Mrs. , British merchants with branches all over the East. Practically all. Even her own history teacher, Mr. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. Suddenly she understood. If it is that I am in the least French, and that you do not like it—’ ‘I don’t like it,’ snapped the old man.
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