” He said. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. " He departed, musing. She must weigh her situation. You know you don’t mean it. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe from me. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound.
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