Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. My dress, my person will be minutely described. A man, then, rushed up the entry, and, seizing the unlucky carpenter by the collar, presented a drawn sword to his throat. The struggle was brief, and Gerald stepped aside, the pistol in his possession, while the girl Melusine stood trembling and glaring. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. ’ ‘Oui, mais—safe. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. You’ve got me. I shall have no faith in future in bolts and bars. And so is your companion,—the convict Sheppard. She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes. Because for the punishments je m’en moque.
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