“Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. " "I will conduct you to the outlet," replied Jack; "but I cannot leave it till I have ascertained whether my mother also is a prisoner here. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society. . ” “Young? I am twenty-four. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. Instead of which they walked sharply. And when Mr. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. I too can see it.
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