"The poor things!" The manager laughed. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. “I—I shall be all right directly. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall.
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