” Mr. . I shall find him yet. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. ] "So much the better. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. "But, we'll soon see. Lucy followed. 235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. She took a deep breath. But it is not your name.
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