Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. " "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand. She could not help but swoon a little. But it means no end of a row. They all left the room.
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