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Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. . Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play.
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