Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. . ” “Personally,” he went on, “I must confess to a great disappointment. CHAPTER XXIX. ” “Then perhaps,” she answered, with a new coldness in her tone, “perhaps I really do not care. For she needed him. I'll dig it up. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. He picked up the remote and sat himself to her right. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own.
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