" "A fugitive. ” He did not look at her. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment.
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