The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Enschede halted. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. . She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. "I've obtained two packets, containing letters from Sir Rowland Trenchard, which I've no doubt will establish your title to the estates.
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