I feel like a fraudulent trustee. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. You know how stubborn they get. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. ” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said. "Curse him!" muttered Abraham.
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