She was the first to hear another car approaching from the street, an odd occurrence in an elementary school lot that had been abandoned for the weekend. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. She made an abrupt personal appeal. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. “Come,” she said. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. He turned just in time to see Lucilla exchange an amused look with Hilary. " "Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper, laughing good-humouredly.
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