"He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. " "Constance alive? Impossible!" ejaculated Trenchard. Take them, and may they prove as serviceable to you as I desire. They must be for your father. " "That is very kind of you," she acknowledged. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear.
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