Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. ” “Mr. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair.
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