David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. ‘He don’t mean you no harm. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter. More importantly, she had her wits. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years.
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