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” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked. A door slammed. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. .
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