’ Then she frowned. Do you know anything of his friends? Is there any one for whom we ought to send?” “I know very little of him beyond his name,” Anna answered. " "I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. Of course, there'll be a few kinks to straighten out.
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