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More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. I can never be grateful enough. ’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. "The poor young man!" she said. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps.
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