" "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. You have been to see your sister, of course. “One hardly knows—all the time. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws.
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