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His lips parted in a rare smile. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. Do not mistake me.
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