"It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. “What a little brick!” he murmured. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. ’ He received a glare from his captive. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness.
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