He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. “I was frightened then,” she declared. I know nothing of that young lady. “So it’s like you’re a dead end?” He asked innocently. But, as he made no answer, he was removed.
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