"Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. He followed. I mean that it doesn’t interest you in itself. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. A man’s children nowadays are not his own. Morningside Park was a suburb that had not altogether, as people say, come off. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. I thought you understood.
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