“Yeah. He rested on one elbow. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. Her greatest exploit was the howling before the mid-day meal. She resolved to go into the City to Ramage and ask for his advice. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music.
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