“What is the good of pretending?” she said. . ” “My God!” said Manning, in a stage-aside. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. He swore when I tried to get it out with the ladle, and told me what it said. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. " "You're not going to betray me!" cried Jack, in alarm.
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