. One went in for painting, kept straight and married old Ferringhall a week or so ago—the Lord help her. Very likely by this time the whole truth is known. I can vouch for that. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. They don’t count, and I don’t care. I am ready to wait for you, to wait your pleasure, to give all my life to winning it. He groaned, much to Melusine’s relief. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated.
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