Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “Ssh!” said her mother, and then added, “A little natural feeling, dear. Our mutual safety requires it. Witness Browning. "You lie!" Head down, fists doubled, Spurlock rushed: only to be met with a kick which was intended for the groin but which struck the thigh instead. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets.
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