’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. You see—I didn’t understand. She shook them off of one foot. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. " "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. When she reflected that Mr.
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