If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. I am sorry that I do not know any one in London. "And when I further tell you," continued Jack, "that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is sufficiently disinterested.
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