"A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. Death belongs to God, young man. It suited him to dampen the spirits of any who sought to impose upon him, as these relics of the loathed family of Valade seemed like to do. "Let him alone," said Trenchard authoritatively, "I have another question to propose. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none.
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