"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. The back of the house had been the Alps for climbing, and the shrubs in front of it a Terai. I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. The whole of that relationship persisted in remaining obscure. The boat in which he rode was not overset. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act.
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