Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. Papa doesn't even care, but he just goes along with whatever my Mom says. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly.
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