" "You see, we didn't know but you might die; and so we had to search your belongings for the address of your people. But that is men all over. His fears supplied him with unwonted vigour. . ’ ‘Also stealing,’ added Gerald, with a gesture at the clothes on the bed. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall.
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