’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said.
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