"Speak, or I fire!" "Well, if you will have it, it's Sir Rowland Trenchard. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. laws alone swamp our small staff. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. Thames," she urged, "the errand, on which you're going, can't be for any good, or you wouldn't be afraid of mentioning it to my father. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement.
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