‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. You’d better not have all the money on you; you had better open a small account in the postoffice and draw it out a fiver at a time. I swear to you, solemnly swear to you, I will save your son's life, nay more, will befriend him, will place him out of the reach of his enemies, if you consent to become my wife.
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