” Anna had reached the house where she lodged, but she hesitated on the doorstep. The back windows of the houses (where any such existed) were strongly barricaded, and kept constantly shut; and the fortress was, furthermore, defended by high walls and deep ditches in those quarters where it appeared most exposed. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. That’s all. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. Wood.
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