"I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk. He moaned in excitement as his lips wrapped around the peak of her right breast. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair.
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