Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “Please call me Carol. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. You were very good. ’ She turned her head, eyes blazing. But, holy smoke!—the Yale spirit in…. ” “Yes,” said his prospective fellow-sailor, “that’s very pretty. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. "How?" cried her brother, starting.
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