But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “In five minutes I shall be ready. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. "At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed. Like appendicitis. I never forgive an injury.
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