That was the true marvel of it. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. He was not there. " "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible.
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