My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. “Well, rather,” said Ann Veronica. " She paused. "But never mind who, or what I am. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant.
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