Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss. “You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. ” “But is that really so?” said Ann Veronica. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. Vee’s all right. " "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. Then she stood up and looked around the room. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites.
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