" "Take hence this boy, then," rejoined Trenchard; "his looks unman me. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. " "Ah, yes; that's all very well. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. "But you are tired!" "I want to go over the story again. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. ’ Mrs Sindlesham abruptly sat up straighter in her chair.
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