"I've known him all my life," replied the other. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. We dine at seven-thirty. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away.
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