Hoddy. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. I’m sorry. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. “You will go and see her,” he begged. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. “I cannot keep silence any longer. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford.
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