“Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. He bullied frankly. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. Of course, one doesn’t like to talk about things until there are things to talk about. " "How!" ejaculated Trenchard, starting back and drawing his sword.
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