" He departed, musing. ” She glared at him balefully. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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