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” Lady Ferringhall was conscious of some relief. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. They did not have to wait long. He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. He did not think of her as a killer, he could barely conceive it. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. I'd have got something nice.
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