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“You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. "No; it's only a fresh gale," Ben returned: "hark! now it comes. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. ” “I’ve told you,” he said. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. “He would never have found you out if you had not personated me. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. "We've heard coming and going. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall.

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