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"While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. "I cannot sign it," returned Trenchard. Still, that leaves over a million shrines short, not reckoning widows who re-marry. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. "Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour.
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