Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. ’ ‘You won’t go to the general then?’ ‘There is no need. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. ’ Melusine swung round and stared at him, while Gerald silently cursed. ’ ‘Emile Gosse,’ Melusine said flatly, in the same language. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. She was a little paler than when she had come to London, a little paler and a little thinner.
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