Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Ah Cum presented his black-bordered card to such individuals as seemed likely to require his services. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. \"Don't they want you to go to Stanford?\" \"They think it is too much money. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. Rhea writhed and scuttled about like a crab. "It's Mrs. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream.
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