"Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Wood's displeasure; and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the conversation began to turn upon his own affairs. The militia were in already. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. His father and mother are gone now. I struck him across the face, twisted the steering wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the road with the motor on top of him.
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