" "My God!" cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, "I have killed her. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be so,—which I doubt. " "Bring your story to an end, Sir," said Trenchard who had listened to the recital with mingled emotions of rage and fear.
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