"I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. “Alice—Alice gone dotty, and all over kids. I love my husband. These joyful bounds just lace into the stuff of my memories and stay there forever. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry.
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