1. " "How!" ejaculated Trenchard, starting back and drawing his sword. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. John’s parents were won over. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here.
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