" "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. On the contrary, his glass was never idle, and finding it not filled quite so frequently as he desired, he applied himself, notwithstanding the expressive looks and muttered remonstrances of Mr. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation.
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