” “Okay. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. “You would appear to be trying to destroy a comradeship which has been very, very pleasant. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. THIS, this glissade, would be damned scoundrelism.
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