No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. ’ ‘Grossly unfair, too. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. ” She said as the car stopped. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget.
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