Sir Rowland," he added, in a deep whisper, "do you agree to my terms?" "I do," answered Trenchard, in the same tone. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips.
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