"Because she's a fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck. There was hope for me then. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. I fight. " Silence. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat. He shook his head. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye.
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