" "Make good your assertions," cried Trenchard, furiously, "or——" "To the proof," interrupted the stranger, calmly. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. The Night-Cellar. “You shall,” she said. " "Thieves!" exclaimed Mrs. Yet she held her tongue. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly.
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