III. All make the same answer—'d—n you, keep it. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. The trio exhibited that indecisive air with which Ah Cum was tolerably familiar.
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