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"I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. “Yes, I believe he is. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. "Back!" cried Jack fiercely: "lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 19:41:08