“How would you know?” Michelle’s interest was piqued. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question. You do not know him.
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