” “Hampstead didn’t suit Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison remarked. “That sounds interesting. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. ” With a swift movement she gained the bell and rang it. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. . .
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