One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. " Spurlock laughed.
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