She despises me, I suppose. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers.
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