“You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. " "Very true," chuckled Jackson; "very true. In a flash, Melusine had jumped forward and clamped it to the floor with one booted foot. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. But for now, I’d like to turn in, if you don’t mind. She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. So I've grown hard—outside.
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