“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. She is more dear to me than anything else. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. The fates are never so kind to me. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. ‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse. She wished her father and aunt would not enjoy their dinner with such quiet determination. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question.
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