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"If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. . The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. "If this document is correct," continued Wood, "and I am persuaded it is so,— you are as unfortunate as wicked. . “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. Where's Jonathan?" Inquiries were instantly made after that individual, but he was nowhere to be found. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address.
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