CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. There was no one to be seen. ‘Give me an opportunity to open my mouth, and I will. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. The man was thick set, with a bright roving eye. . “Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked. Nor Jacques. The old fool’s been working on you through your sister to keep off the stage. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. .
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