He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. ” Her words were slurred with sleep. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. But, what is it! What did you promise?" "To offer you my heart, my hand, my life," replied Kneebone, falling at her feet. " The stranger was for a moment lost in reflection. \" \"Oh, that is pretty. But he promised to give me a couple of guineas if I'd ascertain whether it fitted your locks.
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