" "My penance forbids it," said Trenchard, waving his hand. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. . " The chair was then opened. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. She relented out of exhaustion, yet he would not let her near Marina, his embrace tightening.
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