" "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. " "Stand off, Sir!" exclaimed Trenchard, starting suddenly backwards. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. ” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. I’m sorry to hurt your feelings. The burden of decision had been transferred. There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open.
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