” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. “Tut, tut!” he said. But send me word. " As Jonathan said this, Jack's hand involuntarily sought a pistol. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. I am quite sure though that they did not mean to be rude.
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