When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. And in that respect they stir up one another. “So am I. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. I may add that the family is well known to me. You. Old Bedlam.
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