Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. ‘You see, it is that I have a plan to marry an Englishman. Without a word, the general reached out and took them, but his glance searched the girl’s face. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. His manner was deferential, even eager. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester.
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