Listen to me, Thames. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. Once I banged on the door so hard I split it in two. This service rendered, without waiting for any farther order, she withdrew. Turning, she flew for the nearest door. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene.
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