When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling.
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