" "My God!" cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, "I have killed her. Carefully sustaining the child which, even in that terrible extremity, he had not the heart to abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himself with his right hand, crept slowly on. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. A young man turned to pay the cabman.
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