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It was better even than the hymn-singing. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. ” The change in Lady Ferringhall’s manner was subtle but unmistakable. She turned quickly. Mr. "Boat there!" cried a voice, which Mr. ‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance.
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