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"At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. . And taking the keys, he departed on the errand. ” Lucy cried, drawing attention from the somber crowd. And then: “Of course! Always. There are the packets which my Captain hazarded his life to procure for you, and which he said would establish your right to the estates of the Trenchard family.
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