Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave. “I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one. If I'd been in the way, instead of Jonathan Wild, that accident wouldn't have happened. She had tried to shift the subject of conversation away from herself and was even managing successfully until Chen the father addressed her. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime.
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