But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. To perdition with them all. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. "By all means," returned Wood; "don't delay an instant. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised.
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