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“Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. As he was leaving the hotel, Ah Cum stepped up to his side. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. She did not resist him, she could not. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. "To go a little further.
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