Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. There was. He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. I shan't let you off a farthing. Now go. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese.
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