What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. "Is it a bargain?" "Take half of my estate—take all—my life, if you will—I am weary of it!" cried Trenchard passionately. Her head ached with a hollow pain. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. Men and women are not established things; they’re experiments, all of them. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. He was not sure that the boy had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed that way. I know life.
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