‘Yes, miss. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he entered the Lodge, and Mr. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 22-09-2024 12:47:57
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