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“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. . You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. F. Yet he stays. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. “Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing.
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