"I give you joy of the capture, Mr. ” She said dryly. Ennison?” “He spoke to me, thinking that I was you,” Anna answered. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. " "Don't mention such a thing, Sir," interrupted the tapstress.
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