“Please don’t be sad. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. “Thought so. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. Make no promises on a night where I have burdened you with such awful knowledge. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh.
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