I never made any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light fearlessly on my arms and shoulders. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. Kneebone's man is in the shop," said Rachel; "he'll take it. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped.
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