In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. To-night all London believes that he was your husband. "And when I further tell you," continued Jack, "that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is sufficiently disinterested. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. " "Your father will never oppose your happiness, my dear, I'm sure," said Mrs. “Goodnight. It was the bitterest moment of her life.
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