" "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. ’ ‘And you do not know me. It isn’t law, nor custom, nor masculine violence settled that. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble.
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