But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. " "You won't complain of the delay when I tell you what I've done," answered Jack. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. ‘You are not sympathique in the very least. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife.
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