" "I must trouble you to hold the child, then, for a minute, while I run up to the garret, where I've hidden it for safety," said Mrs. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. "There!" cried Mrs. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester.
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