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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. He drew an awed breath. Damn! I’ve splashed. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. Then I assumed a rather portentous manner to prepare him. She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. How came you to know it? Have you heard the name before?" "I think I have—long, long ago, when I was a child," replied Mrs. " "I must now go and look after Thames," observed the carpenter.
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