It’s an instinct. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. Trenchard was tempted to examine the contents of some of these cases, but a closer inspection made him recoil from them in disgust. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. But I am afraid I am a shockingly obstinate and a very ungrateful person. For a time I didn't know we'd ever find you.
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