He handed Ruth a letter. “You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. I am certainly no ghost. I'm sure he'll do his best to content you. " With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly. Dinner was quite uneventful. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that. For she needed him. "We work together no more.
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