" "Rather behind me;" and he spoke no more that morning. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Your adoptive father understands mankind better. Jonathan nodded assent. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment.
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