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" Trenchard took up a pen. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. " "You shall take my life first," rejoined Sheppard. It’s all right. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. You give her a daub here and there where the rust shows. ‘Let her go.
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