Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. . There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. ‘Gammon. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. "Thames would let himself in; and Jack generally finds an entrance through the backdoor or the shop-window, when he has been out at untimely hours. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note.
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