Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. He bullied frankly. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. “No, you weren’t bad in the slightest. ” He beamed over the effect of this and shook hands with effusion, and Lady Palsworthy suddenly appeared as his confederate and disentangled the vicar’s aunt.
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