She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. . Sailors would leave them at the trader's. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face.
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