’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked.
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