She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering.
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