“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. “Me and my bright ideas. Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at all before this evening?” She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily out of the window. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. We simply can’t get away. ” He looked at her intensely, his dark eyes deepened with sleeplessness. " "Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. It is queer, but men of education and good birth fall swiftest and lowest. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. It had certainly caused some havoc in the uninhabited mansion, chewing through Holland covers to get at the furniture beneath, and knocking down a fire guard and a couple of wooden stands.
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