It began as a joke. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. “You don’t want to go?” “No. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. " "I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. ’ ‘Yes, that is Mr Brewis Charvill, as you have found out for me. .
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