It was now evident that he had not been normal that first day. "Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. Wood's astonishment and displeasure momentarily increased. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. I want to love him. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. Contests were held every year, the type of which depended on her caprice. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed.
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