"Were you present at the time of the robbery?" pursued Jonathan. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated.
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