Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. " "Oh!" Ruth laughed softly. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. "The sums lavished upon those people are perfectly disgraceful, and I should be enchanted to see them hooted from the stage. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution. "Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. ‘You said she was beautiful. Past her shot the little old lady in the bonnet, running incredibly fast, but otherwise still alertly respectable, and she was making a strange threatening sound as she ran, such as one would use in driving ducks out of a garden—“B-rr-r-r-r—!” and pawing with black-gloved hands.
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