She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard.
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