“I believe that you are right,” he said softly. After that consolations fled. At length, I shall ascertain my name. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to draw him out. This is my friend, Mr. I won’t try. Stanley’s pace slackened. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. Rather would I have gone with Leonardo—and he wished me to do so. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. God help me.
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