He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants.
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