It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. He dropped the key on the counterpane. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. "' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. "Of course, there is a criminal element, but the percentage is no larger than that in America or Europe. He was tried at the last Old Bailey sessions; and only escaped the gallows by impeaching his accomplices.
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