"I'm prudence personified. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. " "We'll be waiting for you. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. For whom had its sharp point been intended? Valade? Or perhaps his wife now that the girl had word of their marriage. What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born. There was no response.
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