" "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. I will have nothing to do with you. But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him. Soldiers were stationed at different points of the street to keep off the mob, and others were riding backwards and forwards to maintain an open space for the passage of the procession. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard.
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