"You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. Mr. She’s a snob. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. " "A key!" exclaimed Wood eagerly. But she has let fall enough for me to understand that she knows about her father’s misdeeds. "Give me the link," cried Jonathan.
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