Simpson politely, "but the mole on your chin annoys me."
"Sir!"
"Annoys me excessively. May I ask, was it a birth-mark?"
"He is mad!" screamed the ladies, starting up and wringing their
hands. "Oh, help! help!"
Mr. Fogo looked from one to another, and passed his hand wearily over
his eyes.
"You are right," he murmured; "I fancy--do you know--that I must be--
slightly--mad. Pray excuse me. Would one of you mind seeing me
home?" he asked with a plaintive smile.
His eyes wandered to Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, who stood with one hand
resting on the table, while the other pointed to the door.
"Help! help!" screamed the ladies.
Without another word he opened the door and tottered out into the
passage. At the foot of the stairs he met the Honourable Frederic,
who had been attracted by the screams.
"It's all right," said Mr. Fogo; "don't trouble. I shall be better
out in the open air. There are women in there"--he pointed towards
the drawing-room--"and one with a mole. I daresay it's all right--
but it seemed to me a very big mole."
And leaving the Honourable Frederic to gasp, he staggered from the
house.
What happened in the drawing-room of "The Bower" after he left it
will never be known, for the ladies of Troy are silent on the point.
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