Before her was a great Gothic portal. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. "Don't go, I beg of you!" she implored. " "I dare say no such thing," interposed his better half, authoritatively; "remain where you are, Sir. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color.
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