She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. Above her head was an aura of white fire. Footman or some such. It was not a hopeful looking group. CHAPTER XVIII. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke.
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