“Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. Will I meet you there?’ ‘Yes, yes, I shall await you. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. CHAPTER XVI. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors.
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