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“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. The door popped open with a sigh. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. These sham ideals and advanced notions. ” Anna lifted her hand and pushed open the trap door. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. There was no one else in the doorway.
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