"I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. “Just hope that the ground doesn’t shift and unearth them. Sebastian rose from the tomb. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. No doubt there’s some little mistake.
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