It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it.
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