’ ‘But why, Marthe,’ asked Melusine, as she walked into the house. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. I am bored to distraction. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded.
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