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. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. He must be more or less of an age with this man. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. \"Drives a red Jeep?\" \"Uh-huh. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. " "Don't hurry yourself," said Jonathan, "I'll wait for you here.
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