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"You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. That boy," he added, looking at Thames, "has his eye upon us. You're always complaining that you can't keep anybody more than three months. 276 He opened the box. She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. "Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing.
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