My only love is for my poor lost son. Ramage admitted the force of that. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. "Is she alive?" "She is not," replied Trenchard, overcome by conflicting emotions, and unable to endure the boy's agonized look. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. ” He looked at her anxiously, and she met his glance with a dazzling smile of gratitude.
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