Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “If I do,” he said. “Shhh. “Will he die?” she asked. A brief description will suffice for them. ‘It must be painful. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. She recognized the face but could not quite place it. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. "Something's wrong. She shut the door behind her.
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