" "Readily. Spurlock has gone. " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. And, if Rachel had not carried a candle, the room would have been plunged in total darkness. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. " "A lie!" exclaimed Jack in a terrible tone. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. “Don’t know me, eh? I like that. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses.
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