“John, that is what you say now. "My child! my child!" exclaimed Mrs. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. . I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. " "Aliva Trenchard!" exclaimed Mrs. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave.
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