Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Parbleu, but she was a fool. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. Get on with it, then. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. “Lucy, you.
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