"Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. It was no marriage at all. The Master of the Mint. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. At length the manager arrived; and together he and Ruth succeeded in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the patient's throat. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at any moment.
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