” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the foster background she had come from, and the single mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the gossips from all the corners of town. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. "If you are human," rejoined Trenchard, with stern emphasis, "I insist upon knowing whence you derived your information?" "I might refuse to answer the question, Sir Rowland. Lucy simply added her own good night, even though a significant part of her wanted to call Cathy mother, she refrained. There was no need to be afraid for me. Goodbye.
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