Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. I'll call it my wedding gift. Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps.
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