" "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. He's young and sound. It cuts. ” “That’s one of our differences. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear.
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