David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat. Parbleu, but must she do this all through the house? Evidently she must, for not only could she not properly see the paintings and portraits that hung on the walls, but she was in imminent danger of bumping into the sheet-shrouded furniture. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered.
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