Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut. Wood.
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