25 <4> THE ARRIVAL OF THE BLACK DEATH He loved her many times, especially in the first month. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends.
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