Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. “You must answer me, Annabel,” she continued. Not at all. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. And do you, Jack, attend to your work, and mind you don't get into further mischief. That is why I am here. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She heard him come in; the light burned on.
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