"How so?" asked Wild, curiously. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. " "Oh, Jack!" cried his mother, falling upon his neck, and covering him with kisses. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. I don’t think of you as a kid. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. They had been married for well over one hundred years. An influence of this description appeared to be exerted on the present occasion.
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