Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. . Anna looked at her, startled. “It is Michelle, John. Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. The weed was all right. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance.
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