“Do you need me to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?” He dropped on his knees by the man’s side and made a hurried examination. CHAPTER XVIII. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. My agent is here, and he has brought his contract for me to sign.
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