She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. "I am glad you think that," she replied. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted.
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