She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. “Do come and cheer me up. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone.
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