. Do you expect me, I wonder. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. "Get it over quickly," said Trenchard, in a whisper to the thief-taker. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly.
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