Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. . She held up the lamp. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. It had certainly caused some havoc in the uninhabited mansion, chewing through Holland covers to get at the furniture beneath, and knocking down a fire guard and a couple of wooden stands. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair.
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