"Hist!" exclaimed Jack. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. The young man looked at her. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. “If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now.
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