Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. “Odd!” she said. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ” “Married?” said Ann Veronica. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. Perhaps that was the reason that they both remained standing. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. “There are policemen—and buses. Mr. "It gladdens me to hear you talk thus, Joan," said Wood, in a voice of much emotion, while his eyes filled with tears, "and more than repays me for all I have done for you.
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