" "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. David Courtlaw. ” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. " "Spare him! spare him!" cried Mrs. Her father had determined on a new line. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs.
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