It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be so,—which I doubt. “Your mother was a Gypsy. No further responsibility whatever. Looked like them statues of the Holy Mother I see about the place. ” “Did I?” she said. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco.
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