” She shook her fist ceilingward. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour.
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