Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. It is customary even where an agreement is drawn. No matter. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs.
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