She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. There was a maiden aunt who lived in the North who might let her live there for a few weeks until she disappeared. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply.
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