Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. I am a little afraid. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. Michelle would arrive daily with a two to ten minute brief on her own dating status, her nightly dreams, grades, new family developments. ” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. She crushed the letter in her hand.
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