He begged their attention for the next turn. "Call as you please, beloved girl," he cried, "I will not stir till I am answered. It was the moment for smiles. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply.
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