She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. They had always gone without because of their secret lifestyle. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were.
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