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It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. "Sir Cecil is no more.
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