"Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. Manning, and that her aunt focussed a brightly tactful disregard upon this throughout the meal. ” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone.
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