Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. Of you, I mean. ” They were lingering over their dessert. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. He must be gone to dispose of the body. As usual, however, on the occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring the streets, whose sole object was plunder.
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