My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. CHAPTER I. He did not explain what had happened to her. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby.
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