‘You’re not going to kill me this time. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. "Well, how goes it?" he asked. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none. "I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other; "but, may I ask whether Mr. No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of the passage, and, the next moment, a couple of mastiffs of the largest size rushed furiously towards him. “He has said something of the sort. " She had no reason to doubt him.
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