Whenever Ah Cum (whose normal stride was sufficient to keep him at the side of her chair) pointed out something of interest, she had to strain the cords in her neck to focus her glance upon the object. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. "The feeling is dead within my breast. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope.
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