"If you are human," rejoined Trenchard, with stern emphasis, "I insist upon knowing whence you derived your information?" "I might refuse to answer the question, Sir Rowland. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. I do not know anything of him since I have fourteen years, and that he sent me to Blaye to be a nun. It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment.
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