CHAPTER XIX. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. ’ ‘Take care,’ warned Hilary, his eyes on his improvised bandage. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. Denis.
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