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‘Well said, my dear. She was weeping now. He will say who it was. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. " "Bring him here,—let me see him—let me embrace him—let me be assured that he is safe, and I am yours. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. " "No; I'm quite sure she said they're for you," replied Winifred; "but she does want to see father. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything.
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