It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. “No thanks.
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