Wild!" demanded Trenchard, as if he had formed a sudden resolution. Again he rushed. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. “Where am I?” he muttered. ” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash.
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