” “Lady Ferringhall! Anna!” he exclaimed. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. “The Chens must already be here. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. It still failed in something. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames.
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