"Enschede!" he called. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. Do sit down, dear boy. Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. That bruise will answer the same purpose. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. “Cheveney!” she repeated.
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