He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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