The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside. "If I had, you'd not have seen me here," replied Jack, sullenly. " "Ay, and there's my liver. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Then a ride to London on horseback.
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