She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. gutenberg. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. Then she saw him.
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