didn’t have to. “Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. . " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. If Thames is murdered, you are his assassin. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music.
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