“Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. I must break open the door. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated.
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