Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. ” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed.
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