It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. We'll get together this afternoon; and you can pretend that I am your father. Besides, I have my doubts that he is so very sick. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it.
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