. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. ’ She bestowed a dazzling smile on Roding, who had reddened to the gills at these words. Let—it—fall.
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