"I've got something to say to you," continued the speaker, rather less harshly; "something to your advantage; so come out o' your hiding-place, and let's have some supper, for I'm infernally hungry. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. At least I can’t talk to them. " "I should like to satisfy myself on that score," rejoined Wild, drily.
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