How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. ’ ‘But you mind that I say I do not trust you. But they were too late. I believe I’m in love. Smith's melody had subsided.
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