What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. ” She laid her hand softly upon his. Wasting no time, he crossed straight to the shutters and opened them. " "Those terms were a third of my estate," observed Trenchard bitterly. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely.
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