" "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer.
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