Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. Neither your aunt nor I have any other thought but what is best for you. . The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. ” “I will have your reason for this,” he said.
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