" "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. ’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. "You have killed him," cried Winifred in alarm. The bridge was open. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr.
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