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You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. I believe I am doomed to be an old maid. "I should never have been what I am, but for you.
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