. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. ‘Hilary was right. " "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue.
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