Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. Squire and master. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him. "This gentleman brings us tidings of an old friend, my dear," said the carpenter. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life.
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