“The Widgetts,” she said. . God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. CHAPTER XXVIII. However, come along. . The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket.
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