Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. "Flight is still left me," replied Trenchard. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. She had warned him. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. It would not burden him with any obligation. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted.
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