She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. By your father, Sir Montacute Trenchard's will, you are aware,—and, therefore, I need not repeat it, except for the special purpose I have in view,—you are aware, I say, that, by this will, in case your sister Aliva, died without issue, or, on the death of such issue, the property reverts to Constance and her issue.
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