With great difficulty, Wood forced a path through the ruins. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. This was good. I feel at moments as though I could bolt for it. Anna, who was disposed to be sharply critical, could find no fault with it. He dined, and then pleaded a political engagement. Man or woman. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor.
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