“You know what a fearful old prig Ferringhall is, always goes about as though the whole world were watching him? We tried to show him around Paris, but he wouldn’t have any of it. And rather unscrupulous. ” She glanced at him, and it was suddenly apparent for one instant of illumination that this ring upon her finger was the crowning blunder of her life. He was really very bright and clever, with a sort of conversational boldness that was just within the limits of permissible daring. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features.
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