"I have," replied Jonathan. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. "I alone am to blame. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond. John introduced the tall boy.
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