It’s no good flying out at that, Vee; I didn’t arrange it. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. ’ She was backing across the room, moving towards the screen. “All right, Dunster,” he said. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. “I do,” he answered. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours.
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