Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. Do you know, Lady Ferringhall, I am proud that your sister permits me to call myself her friend. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about. If anyone noticed, he did not report the event. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna.
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