“I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. I was given no sword and shield and forced into the ring with a dozen armored warriors with full weaponry.
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