A fierce struggle ensued. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. Her thoughts took words for themselves. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. The boy’s besotted. The elements were wrathful as their passions. His glasses were gone.
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