He has got five minutes' start of you. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. And here's the proof. No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. I won't keep you long. \"Word gets round. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head.
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