"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. ’ ‘I still think you ought to have waited, miss. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said.
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