1. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. A thousand eager assistants pressed behind him. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. ‘That is a very English name.
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