" "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. 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. But the love of life prevailed over his fears.
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