“Get me some brandy and my bag. For he come after her, did Mr Charvill. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently.
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