’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face. . " "Mr. ” Mr. This time they would call it murder. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it. "Take care of your charge. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music.
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