"The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. Our mutual safety requires it. She had never said anything so horrible to anyone in her life. He was no match for Brendon. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement.
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