It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. " Darrell returned no answer. This way, my dear—and— you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but a quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient.
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