His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. ” Diane purred. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. So it is that I do not do these things. “I’ve thought about it. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. She slipped out the window, jumping to the ground from the second story with very little sound.
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