Rhea became alarmed that she was about to leave. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. Her confession was still unmade. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. That’s my opinion, if you ask me.
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