With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. It fell to the ground and smoked ominously. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side.
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