’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. “Call me Annabel. There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. “Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. Walking to the station with him. . She began to weep in long, aching sobs.
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