As to his mother, I've no pity for her. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. "Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly. 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. I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible.
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