“You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. “You—appear to know my name, sir,” Sir John said. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. “Are you serious?” “You know very well that I should never joke on such a subject. ‘Has this capitaine of yours not yet rid us of this Emile? What can he find to say to him?’ ‘Don’t be impatient,’ Gerald said, rising too and coming to draw her away from the door.
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